A comparison of the life of Man,
Concerning how fickle his estate doth stand,
Flourishing like a Tree, or Vine, or dainty flower,
Or like a ship, or raine, thats turnd each houre.
To the tune of Sir Andrew Barton.
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AS I lay musing all alone,
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Great store of things I thought upon,
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And specially of mans estate,
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And how hees subject unto Fate.
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First Ile compare him to a tree,
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Which you sometimes all greene may see,
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But suddenly his leafes doe fall
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That he was beautifyd withall.
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The Tree likewise is knowne bys fruit
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Better then by his fine greene sute,
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He may show comely to the eye,
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Yet his fruit may tast bitterly.
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So men sometimes make a faire showe,
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All fresh and greene they seeme to growe,
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But when the winter of griefe and thrall
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Doth on them seize, their greene leaves fall.
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But for the difference of mens fruit,
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I must indeed be something mute,
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But those that grow like Cedars tall
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Yield little fruit or none at all.
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Yet doe they flourish fresh and greene,
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Much like the pleasant sommer Queene:
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They are bedect with fragrant flowers,
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And they doe dwell in stately Towers.
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But as the Tree is great and tall,
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The great and mightier is his fall:
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And as he falls, so doth he lye,
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Untill the builder him apply.
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What though a man have store of wealth,
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It cannot him assure of health,
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By his fruits he must sure be tryd,
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Either condemnd or justifyd.
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Againe, a man is like a Vine,
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That from the earth doth flourish fine,
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Adornd with natures ornament,
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With store of Grapes to give content.
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But with a knife, or such a thing,
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The Vine is soone set a bleeding,
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And then those Grapes will soone decay,
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And piningly will wast away.
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Even so stands the life of man,
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If that his blood from him be drawne,
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Then suddenly his life doth yield,
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And unto death he is compelld.
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Man flourisheth even like a flower,
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Which lives and dyes within an houre,
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He growes perhaps untill his prime,
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Or he may dye ins budding time.
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He may chance live till hee is old,
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And bide the brunt of Winters cold,
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But then heel lose the smell and shew,
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And will no more be worth the view.
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So many men dye in their prime,
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And some dye in their budding time:
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But he that lives the longest life,
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Shall find but sorrow, care, and strife.
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Mans life is like a ship oth Seas,
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Which is sometimes as Fortune please,
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Sometimes in safety, yet not still so,
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Even as proud Boreas blasts doe blow.
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When Winds are still and weathers faire,
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Then Mariners are free from care;
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But when as stormes make dark the skye,
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Then must each man his labour plye.
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The second part To the same tune.
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SO ist with man the selfe same case,
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His lifes a ship that seas doth trace,
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And oft is like to goe to wracke
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When winds and storms doe tacklings crack.
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We men when sicknesse doth assaile
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Our bodyes, and makes us looke pale,
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Then would we doe all things we may,
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So that our health we might enjoy.
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But when the Fates on us doe smile,
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Like Saylers we forget our toyle.
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We hang out colours for a show,
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But take them in when stormes doe grow.
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I may compare a man againe
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Even like unto a turning raine,
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That changeth even as doth the wind,
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Indeed so is mans fickle mind.
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The mind of man doth often change,
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Hees apt with every gale to range,
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He standeth tottering to and fro,
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Even as his foolish fancies goe.
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Againe I may mans life compare
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Like to a bird that flyes ith aire,
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And suddenly she sees a bayt,
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Which is to take her with deceit.
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The bird no sooner is betrayd,
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But comes me him that the bait layd,
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And having taken her in his Net,
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She dyes, and he for more doth bait.
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Even so is man by cunning caught,
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When as thereof he hath no thought,
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He soareth high and feares no fall,
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Yet then hees in most danger of all.
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Make tryall of this any one,
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And you shall find that I have showne
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A prospect where you may behold
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The difference in this earthy mold.
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This life is fickle, fraile, and vaine,
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Seeke everlasting life to gaine.
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All worldly treasures soone decay,
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And mortall man returnes to clay.
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Before thou dyest bid pride adieu,
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Which doth so often shape thee new,
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Call out for mercy with loud voice,
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And let her be thy onely choice.
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If thou have livd in gluttony,
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Forgetting quite that thou shalt dye,
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Then quickly charity imbrace,
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That she may plead well in thy case.
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If thou by covetousnesse have livd,
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And hast thy neighbours poore deceivd,
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Then suddenly restort againe.
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For feare thou feele hells burning paine.
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Perchance in wrath thou hast shed blood,
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Which wrath should alwayes be withstood,
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Yet arme thee with a patient heart,
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And never more act such a part.
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If thou hast envyd at thy brother,
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Repent with speed, that blacke sinne smother,
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And let true love be thy delight,
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Thou mayst depart with life this night.
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If thou hast slothfull beene, and lewd,
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Neglecting Gods most holy word,
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Apply thy selfe most speedily,
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Redeeme thy time spent idly.
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If thou lascivious hast beene given;
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Doe so no more, but pray to heaven,
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That hateful sinne God may forgive,
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Chastise thy selfe, repent, and grieve.
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Thus to conclude, let me intreat
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All those that heare what I relate,
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That they seeke heavens grace to find,
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And alwayes beare an upright mind.
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