University of Virginia Library

------Mors æquo pede pulsat Pauperum tabernas, Regumque turres.

Mans life's a game, each hath his card in's hand,
And death a while a looker on doth stand:
At last hee shuffles in a gamester too;
Then cuts, deales, rubbes, and winnes, and so adieu.
(The King like common creatures) in death must
Find no respect, nor reverence in the dust:
Their royalty put off, their state laid downe,
There sits a clod of dirt, where once a Crowne.
Their eyes like expir'd tapers drop, and fall,
And leave their Sockets emptie; for the Ball,
Or golden Globe, which once their hands did keepe,
A knot of wormes doth role about, and creepe,
Who tast no difference 'twixt their flesh and those
Who fed lesse dainty, wore farre courser cloathes.
In his dominions Death impartiall knowne,
The King and begger there are all but one.
Rejoyce then rich men, and your game pursue,
In death I'le be as good a man as you.