Aeger Diues habet Nummos, sed
non habet ipsum. +
T He wealthy chuffe, for all his wealth, Cannot redeeme therby his health: But must to Graue, for all his store, Death spareth neither riche nor poore: (5) Not Cressus wealth, nor Mydas Golde, The stroke of careles death may holde: Hee feares no foe, hee spares no freend, Of euery thing hee is the ende: Though Diues had great store of pealfe, (10) Yet still the wretch, did want him selfe.
No Phisickes art, or cunning cure, May any man of life assure: No highe estate or beauty braue, May keepe vs from our carefull graue: (15) No hauty minde or valyant harte, Agaynst pale Death, may take our parte: No curious speach, or witty tale, Our dyinge corps may counteruayle: No force, no gyle, no powre or stength, (20) But death doth ouercome at length.
The riche man trusteth in his Gould, And thinkes that life, is bought and sould: The sight therof so bleares, his eye, That hee remembreth not to dye: (25) Hee hath enough and liues in ioye, Who dares (thinkes hee) worke mee annoy: Thus is hee made, to pleasure thrall, And thinkes that death will neuer call: Who vnawares with stealing pace, (30) Doth ende in payne his pleasant race.