 | Poems Sacred And Satyricall |  |
THE AUTHOR.
N o man so high but er'e he die may fall,
A ll Flesh is fraile, all subject unto thrall,
T her's no content on Earth, none certaine bred,
H ealthfull to day we live; to morow dead.
A rt, nor Promotion, meuds not each Man's state,
N or are the Greatest, truly fortunate.
A dvanc'ments but a Breath, delight a Toy,
E ach glitt'ring Pompe each soule-seducing joy
L ike Hell-bred poyson, workes the soules annoy.
A ll Flesh is fraile, all subject unto thrall,
T her's no content on Earth, none certaine bred,
H ealthfull to day we live; to morow dead.
A rt, nor Promotion, meuds not each Man's state,
N or are the Greatest, truly fortunate.
A dvanc'ments but a Breath, delight a Toy,
E ach glitt'ring Pompe each soule-seducing joy
L ike Hell-bred poyson, workes the soules annoy.
R eject all lewd, all vaine affecting pleasure,
I ntend thy future good, Celestiall treasure.
C ontest with sinne, still strive, the conquest weare
H e that will conquer, patiently must beare.
A t such rare Combats, aide from Heav'n is sent
R especting Man, sinnes danger to prevent,
D eare is the Love of God, in him delight,
S eeke Heavenly joyes, those comforts infinite.
I ntend thy future good, Celestiall treasure.
C ontest with sinne, still strive, the conquest weare
H e that will conquer, patiently must beare.
A t such rare Combats, aide from Heav'n is sent
R especting Man, sinnes danger to prevent,
D eare is the Love of God, in him delight,
S eeke Heavenly joyes, those comforts infinite.
| Poems Sacred And Satyricall | |