 | Poems of Thomas, Lord Vaux |  |
II. HE DESYRETH EXCHANGE OF LIFE.
The day delayed, of that I most do wishe,
Wherewith I feede and starue in one degree:
With wish and want still seruèd in one dishe,
Aliue as dead, by proofe as you may see.
To whom of old this prouerbe wel it serues
While grasse dooth grow, the selly horse he sterues.
Wherewith I feede and starue in one degree:
With wish and want still seruèd in one dishe,
Aliue as dead, by proofe as you may see.
To whom of old this prouerbe wel it serues
While grasse dooth grow, the selly horse he sterues.
Tweene these extreames, thus doo I rone the race
Of my poore life, this certaynly I know:
Tweene would and want, vnwarely that do passe,
More swift then shot out of the Archer's bow.
As Spider drawes her line all day,
I watch the net, and others haue the pray.
Of my poore life, this certaynly I know:
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More swift then shot out of the Archer's bow.
As Spider drawes her line all day,
I watch the net, and others haue the pray.
And as by proofe the greedy dogge doth gnawe
The barèd bone, all onely for the taste:
So to and fro this lothsome life I draw,
With fancies forst, and fed with vaine repast.
Narcissus brought vnto the water brinke,
So aye thirst I, the more that I do drinke.
The barèd bone, all onely for the taste:
So to and fro this lothsome life I draw,
With fancies forst, and fed with vaine repast.
Narcissus brought vnto the water brinke,
So aye thirst I, the more that I do drinke.
Loe thus I dye, and yet I seeme not sicke,
With smart vnseene my selfe, my selfe I weare:
With prone desire and power that is not quicke,
With hope aloft, now drenchèd in dispayre.
Trainèd in trust, for no reward assignd,
The more I hast, the more I come behind.
With smart vnseene my selfe, my selfe I weare:
With prone desire and power that is not quicke,
With hope aloft, now drenchèd in dispayre.
Trainèd in trust, for no reward assignd,
The more I hast, the more I come behind.
With hurt to heale, in frosen yse to frie,
With losse, to laugh, this is a wonderous case:
Fast fetred here, is forst away to flie,
As hunted Hare that Hound hath in the chase.
With winges and spurres, for all the hast I make,
As like to lose, as for to draw the stake.
With losse, to laugh, this is a wonderous case:
Fast fetred here, is forst away to flie,
As hunted Hare that Hound hath in the chase.
With winges and spurres, for all the hast I make,
As like to lose, as for to draw the stake.
The dayes be long that hang vpon desert,
The life is irke of ioyes that be delayed:
The time is short for to requite the smart,
That dooth proceede of promise long vnpayed.
That to the last of this my fainting breath,
I wish exchange of life for happy death.
The life is irke of ioyes that be delayed:
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That dooth proceede of promise long vnpayed.
That to the last of this my fainting breath,
I wish exchange of life for happy death.
| Poems of Thomas, Lord Vaux | |