Olor Iscanus A Collection of some Select Poems, and Translations, Formerly written by Mr. Henry Vaughan Silurist. Published by a Friend |
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Casimirus, Lib.2. Ode 8.
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 | Olor Iscanus |  |
Casimirus, Lib.2. Ode 8.
It would lesse vex distressed man
If Fortune in the same pace ran
To ruine him, as he did rise;
But highest states fall in a trice.
No great Successe held ever long:
A restless fate afflicts the throng
Of Kings and Commons, and lesse dayes
Serve to destroy them, then to raise.
Good luck smiles once an age, but bad
Makes Kingdomes in a minute sad,
And ev'ry houre of life wee drive,
Hath o're us a Prerogative.
If Fortune in the same pace ran
To ruine him, as he did rise;
But highest states fall in a trice.
No great Successe held ever long:
A restless fate afflicts the throng
Of Kings and Commons, and lesse dayes
Serve to destroy them, then to raise.
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Makes Kingdomes in a minute sad,
And ev'ry houre of life wee drive,
Hath o're us a Prerogative.
Then leave (by wild Impatience driv'n,
And rash resents,) to rayle at heav'n,
Leave an unmanly, weak complaint
That Death and Fate have no restraint.
In the same houre that gave thee breath,
Thou hadst ordain'd thy houre of death,
But he lives most, who here will buy
With a few tears, Eternitie.
And rash resents,) to rayle at heav'n,
Leave an unmanly, weak complaint
That Death and Fate have no restraint.
In the same houre that gave thee breath,
Thou hadst ordain'd thy houre of death,
But he lives most, who here will buy
With a few tears, Eternitie.
| Olor Iscanus | |