The Church.
71
Man is no starre, but a quick coal
Of mortall fire:
Who blows it not, nor doth controll
A faint desire,
Lets his own ashes choke his soul.
Of mortall fire:
Who blows it not, nor doth controll
A faint desire,
Lets his own ashes choke his soul.
When th' elements did for place contest
With him, whose will
Ordain'd the highest to be best;
The earth sat still,
And by the others is opprest.
With him, whose will
Ordain'd the highest to be best;
The earth sat still,
And by the others is opprest.
Life is a businesse, not good cheer;
Ever in warres.
The sunne still shineth there or here,
Whereas the starres
Watch an advantage to appeare.
Ever in warres.
The sunne still shineth there or here,
Whereas the starres
Watch an advantage to appeare.
Oh that I were an Orenge-tree,
That busie plant!
Then should I ever laden be,
And never want
Some fruit for him that dressed me.
That busie plant!
Then should I ever laden be,
And never want
Some fruit for him that dressed me.
But we are still too young or old:
The man is gone,
Before we do our wares unfold:
So we freez on,
Untill the grave increase our cold.
The man is gone,
Before we do our wares unfold:
So we freez on,
Untill the grave increase our cold.
¶ Deniall.
WHen my devotions could not pierce
Thy silent eares;
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse:
My breast was full of fears
And disorder:
Thy silent eares;
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse:
My breast was full of fears
And disorder:
My