 | H. His Deuises |  |
Aunswere H.
[The plunged state wherein I restlesse lay]
The
plunged state wherein I restlesse lay,
When these thy lynes were brought before my view:
A certaine tyme began to cease and stay:
And still mee thought my pinching paine withdrew,
To heare from thee, such comfort did ensue,
But when at last, I learned had thy greefe,
My comfort fledde, bereft was all releefe.
When these thy lynes were brought before my view:
A certaine tyme began to cease and stay:
And still mee thought my pinching paine withdrew,
To heare from thee, such comfort did ensue,
But when at last, I learned had thy greefe,
My comfort fledde, bereft was all releefe.
And then a newe my crased corps in paine,
Lay languisht long, not knowing what were best,
A thousand thoughts within my troubled braine
So mooude my minde, that vnneth could I rest,
The slypping ioyes that worldly wights possest.
Loe then I sawe, full soone awaye did slide,
And nothing was, that still might stande or bide.
Lay languisht long, not knowing what were best,
A thousand thoughts within my troubled braine
So mooude my minde, that vnneth could I rest,
The slypping ioyes that worldly wights possest.
Loe then I sawe, full soone awaye did slide,
And nothing was, that still might stande or bide.
No Forte so strong, no Bulwarke raysde so sure,
But tyme consumes and tumbleth downe at last:
Mannes force is frayle, and lyke the feeble flowre,
That bendes and breaks with euery little blast,
His dangers great, his pleasures soone surpast,
As now by me appeares, whose ioyes doe vade,
Whose griefe doth grow, whose comfort glides to glade.
But tyme consumes and tumbleth downe at last:
Mannes force is frayle, and lyke the feeble flowre,
That bendes and breaks with euery little blast,
His dangers great, his pleasures soone surpast,
As now by me appeares, whose ioyes doe vade,
Whose griefe doth grow, whose comfort glides to glade.
Whose lyfe lyke smoke, doth slylie slynck awaye,
Whose Rock is reelde, whose fatall threed is spunne,
Whose dreame doth ende, whose, slumbring sleepe doth staye,
Whose web is wouen, whose Glasse is welnie runne,
Whose parte is playde, whose tale is tolde and done,
Whose will doth yeelde to leaue this wretched vale,
Where naught is sure, but driry Death most pale.
Whose Rock is reelde, whose fatall threed is spunne,
Whose dreame doth ende, whose, slumbring sleepe doth staye,
Whose web is wouen, whose Glasse is welnie runne,
Whose parte is playde, whose tale is tolde and done,
Whose will doth yeelde to leaue this wretched vale,
Where naught is sure, but driry Death most pale.
| H. His Deuises | |