Tixall Poetry.
155
XXXVII.
A Thought on Human Life.
Some striving knowledge to refine,
Consume themselves with thinking;
And some, whose friendship's drownd in wine,
Are kindly kild with drinking:
And some are wracked on Indian coasts,
Thither with gaine invited,
And some in smoke of battle lost,
Whom drums, not lutes, delighted.
Consume themselves with thinking;
And some, whose friendship's drownd in wine,
Are kindly kild with drinking:
And some are wracked on Indian coasts,
Thither with gaine invited,
And some in smoke of battle lost,
Whom drums, not lutes, delighted.
XXXVIII.
On Phillis.
Let fortune and Phillis frowne if they please,
Ile noe more on there deities call,
Ile noe more on there deities call,
