GorgeousGallery sig. Mir

[sig. Mir]

A vew of vayn glory. +

W Hat motion more, may mooue a man to minde His owne estate, then proofe, whose dayes vnsure, Accounted are vnto a puffe of winde, A breathing blast, whose force can not endure: (5) Whose lyuely showes consumes, whose pompe decayes, Whose glory dyes, whose pleasures soone be spent: Whose stoutest strength, to weakenes subiect stayes, Whose thoughts bee vaine, and vade as though vnment. What haue wee then to vaunt, or glory in? (10) Sith all is vayne, wherin wee take delight: Why should wee boast or brag, sith nought wee win In fine, but death? to whom yeeldes euery wight. To equall state, hee bringeth each degree, Hee feareth none, all subiects yeeldes to death: (15) To dankish dust, hee driueth all wee see, Which in the world, enioyeth any breath: Why vaunt wee then, in that wee see is vayne, Or take delight, in that wee proue but drosse? Why glory wee, or seeke for golden gayne? (20) Sith at the length, wee reape therof but losse. Wee lothe to leaue, our hutches filde with golde: Our annual rents, it greeues vs to forgo, Our buildings braue, which glads vs to beholde: Our pleasant sport, it greeues vs to forgo. (25) Wee nothing brought, ne ought shall carry hence, +Lyfe lost, behinde goods, mony, land, wee leaue: And naked shall returne, assured whence Before wee came, when death doth life bereaue: Liue then, to leaue thy life in euery hower, (30) Learne how to lead thy minde, from vayne desire, Of filthy drosse, whose sugerest sweet is sower, When dreadfull death, shall yeeld our earthly hire. What is our world but vayne, fraught full of vice, Wherin wee liue, allured by disceat: