I see that wise king Salomon,
Whose wisedome was most excellent,
Among the rest is dead and gone,
For all his prudent gouernment.
And what is he that liueth now
In wisedome most profound?
But death compelleth him to bow,
And brings him to the ground.
If strength then faile,

And wit doth quaile,

Vnwise were I once for to think that I might Escape the stroke of death;

And know that there is on the earth no one right,

But must resign his breath.

I see that faire young Absalon,
Beautie did nought auaile him:
The welthy glutton eke is gone,

His riches could not vaile him.
And he that had his barnes so thwakt,
And bade his soul take rest,

In one night from his wealth was rapt,
And so was dispossest.

Thus see you plain,

It is in vaine

To make anie certaine account of this life, Or in yourselues to trust :

Therefore make you ready to part from this strife,

For to the earth you must.

A DITTIE

Wherein the brevitie of man's life is described, how soone his
pompe vanisheth away, and he brought to his latest home.
THE statelie pine, whose braunches spread so faire,
By winde or weather wasted is at length;
The sturdie oake, that clymeth in the ayre,

In time dooth lose his beautie and his strength;
The fayrest flower, that florisht as to-daie,
To-morrow seemeth like the withered haie.
So fare it with the present state of man,
Whose showe of healthe dooth argue manie
yeares:

But as his life is likened to a span,

So suddaine sicknes pulles him from his
peeres;
And where he seemde for longer time to-daie,
To-morrow lies he as a lumpe of clay.
The infant yong, the milk-white aged head,
The gallant youth that braueth with the best,
We see with earth are quickly ouerspreade,

And both alike brought to their latest rest:
As soone to market commeth to be solde
The tender lambe's skin as the weather's olde.
Death is not partiall, as the prouerb saies;

The prince and peasant both with him are one: The sweetest face that's painted now-a-daies,

And highest head set forth with pearl and stone, When he hath brought them to the earthly graue, Beare no more reckoning then the poorest slaue. The wealthy chuffe, that makes his gold his god,

And scrapes and scratches all the mucke he may, And with the world doth play at euen and od, When death thinks good to take him hence away, Hath no more ritches in his winding-sheete Then the

poore soule that sterued in the streete.

Vnhappie man! that runneth on thy race,

Not minding where thy crazed bones must rest: But woe to thee that doost forget the place, Purchast for thee to liue amongst the blest! Spend then thy life in such a good regard, That Christe's blessing may be thy reward.

STANZAS

From "The Complaint of Jonas," which forms a section of "The Mirror of Mutabilitie."

You therefore that remain on earth,
Let this your minde suffise;

Feare still for to displease the Lord-
Be not to worldly wise.

Fix stil your minde on heauenly things,
That neuer wil decay-

The rest are but as shadows heer,
And soone wil passe away.

What vantage is it for a man
To haue of riches store,
And for to want the fear of God,
Which stil should be before?

The more a man doth fixe his minde
Vpon that filthy drosse,

The more endamaged is his soule
Vnto the vtter losse.

For welth doth pamper him so much,

That God is clene forgot,

And then at last vnto his pain
Vpon him falls the lot;

So that all good and vertuous men From company refuse him,

And where before he was esteem'd, Now they disdain to vse him.

*

*

*

Turne vnto God, and God to you
Wil turn his cheerful face;
Flye slauish sloth, and then be sure
That God will you imbrace.
For idlenes is enemye

To goodnes, as men say;
Therefore doo shun the enemye,
And on the vertue stay.

Let all that haue you preter-past
Examples be to you,

How you may learn in all assayes
Vile sin for to eschew.

And thus if you direct your wayes,
You walk the path so right,
That heauen is your inheritance
In foyle of Sathan's spight.

XX.

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

THE FAREWELL.

GOE, Soule, the bodie's guest,
Vpon a thanklesse arrant:
Feare not to touch the best;
Thy truth shall be thy warrant :
Goe, since I needs must dye,
And giue them all the lye.
Say to the court, it glowes
And shines like painted wood;
Say to the church, it shewes
What's good, but does no good:
If court and church reply,
Then giue them both the lye.
Tell potentates, they liue
Acting, but oh! their actions
Not loued vnless they giue;
Nor strong but by affection:
If potentates reply,

Giue potentates the lye.
Tell men of high condition,
That manage the estate,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice onely hate;
And if they once reply,
Then giue them all the lye.
Tell those that braue it most,
They beg for more by spending,