The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed: And Those which he Design'd for the Press, Now Published out of the Authors Original Copies ... The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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ODE IV.
On the uncertainty of Fortune. A Translation. |
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 | The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley |  |
ODE IV. On the uncertainty of Fortune. A Translation.
Leave off unfit complaints, and cleere
From sighs your brest, and from black clouds your brow,
When the Sunne shines not with his wonted cheere,
And Fortune throwes an adverse cast for you.
That Sea which vext with Notus is,
The merry Eastwinds will to morrow kisse.
From sighs your brest, and from black clouds your brow,
When the Sunne shines not with his wonted cheere,
And Fortune throwes an adverse cast for you.
That Sea which vext with Notus is,
The merry Eastwinds will to morrow kisse.
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The Sunne to day rides drousily,
To morrow 'twill put on a looke more faire,
Laughter and groaning doe alternately
Returne, and teares sports neerest neighbours are.
'Tis by the Gods appointed so
That good fate should with mingled dangers flow.
To morrow 'twill put on a looke more faire,
Laughter and groaning doe alternately
Returne, and teares sports neerest neighbours are.
'Tis by the Gods appointed so
That good fate should with mingled dangers flow.
Who drave his Oxen yesterday,
Doth now over the Noblest Romanes reigne.
And on the Gabii, and the Cures lay
The yoake which from his Oxen he had tane.
Whom Hesperus saw poore and low,
The mornings eye beholds him greatest now.
Doth now over the Noblest Romanes reigne.
And on the Gabii, and the Cures lay
The yoake which from his Oxen he had tane.
Whom Hesperus saw poore and low,
The mornings eye beholds him greatest now.
If Fortune knit amongst her play
But seriousnesse; he shall againe goe home
To his old Country Farme of yesterday,
To scoffing people no meane jest become.
And with the crowned Axe, which he
Had rul'd the World, goe backe and prune some Tree.
Nay if he want the fuell cold requires,
With his owne Fasces he shall make him fires.
But seriousnesse; he shall againe goe home
To his old Country Farme of yesterday,
To scoffing people no meane jest become.
And with the crowned Axe, which he
Had rul'd the World, goe backe and prune some Tree.
Nay if he want the fuell cold requires,
With his owne Fasces he shall make him fires.
| The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley | |