A Friends advice,
In an excellent Ditty, Concerning the variable Changes in this life.
To pleasant new Tune,
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WHat if a day, or a moneth, or a year
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crown thy delights,
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With a thousand wisht contentings?
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Cannot the chance of a night, or an hour
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cross thy delights
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with as many sad tormentings?
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Fortune in her fairest birth
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are but blossoms dying,
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Wanton pleasures doting mirth,
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are but shadows flying;
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All our joyes are but toys.
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idle thoughts deceiving,
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None hath power of an hour,
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in our lives bereaving.
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What if a smile, or a beck, or a look,
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feed thy fond thoughts
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with many a sweet conceiving?
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May not that smile, or that beck, or that look
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tell thee as well
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they are but vain deceiving?
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Why should Beauty be so proud,
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in things of no surmounting?
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All her wealth is but a shrowd
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of a rich accounting;
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Then in this, repose no bliss,
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which is so vain and idle,
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Beauties Flowers, have their hours,
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Time doth hold the Bridle.
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What if the World with allures of her wealth
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raise thy degree,
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to a place of high advancing?
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May not the World by a check of that wealth
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put thee again
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to a low despised changing?
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Whilst the Sun of wealth doth shine,
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thou shalt have friends plenty,
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But come want then they repine,
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not one abides of twenty;
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Wealth and Friends, holds and ends,
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all your fortunes rise and fall,
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Up and down, rise and frown,
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certain is no state at all.
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What if a grief, or a strain, or a fit,
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pinch thee with pain,
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or the feeling pangs of sickness?
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Doth not that gripe, or that strain, or that fit
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shew thee the form
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of thy own true perfect likeness?
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Health is but a glimpse of joy,
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subject to all changes.
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Mirth is but a silly toy
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with mishap estranges,
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Tell me then silly Man,
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why art thou so weak of wit,
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As to be in jeopardy
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when thou mayest in quiet sit?
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The second part to the same Tune.
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THen if all this, have declard thine amiss
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take it from me
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as a gentle friendly warning;
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If thou refuse, and good counsel abuse
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thou mayst hereafter,
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dearly buy thy learning;
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All is hazard that we have,
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there is nothing biding,
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Days of pleasure are like streams,
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through fair Meddows gliding,
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Wealth or wo, Time doth go,
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there is no returning,
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Secret Fates, guides our States,
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both in mirth and mourning,
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Mans but a blast, or a smoak, or a cloud
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that in a thought
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or a moment he is dispersed:
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Lifes but a span, or a tale, or a word,
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that in a trice,
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on suddain is rehearsed,
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Hopes are changed, & thy thoughts are crost
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Will nor skill prevaileth
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Though we laugh and live at ease,
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change of thoughts assaileth,
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Though a while, Fortune smile,
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and her comforts frowneth,
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Yet at length, fails her strength
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and in fine she frowneth.
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Thus are the joys of a year in an hour,
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and of a moneth,
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in a moment quite expired;
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But in the night, with the word of a noyse,
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crost in the day
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of an ease our hearts desired;
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Fairest Blossoms soonest fade,
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withered, foul and rotten,
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And through greatest joyes,
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quickly are forgotten:
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Seek not then (mortal men)
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earthly fleeting pleasure,
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But with pain, strive to gain
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Heavenly lasting Treasure.
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Earth to the World, as Man to the Earth,
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hath but a point,
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and a point is soon defaced,
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Flesh to the Soul, as Flower to the Sun,
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that in a storm
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or a Tempest is disgraced;
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Fortune may the body please
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which is only carnal,
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But it will the Soul disease,
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that is still immortal,
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Earthly joys are but toys,
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to the Souls election,
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Worldly grace, doth deface,
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Mans Divine perfection.
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Fleshly delight to the Earth that is fleshly
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may be the cause
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of a thousand sweet contentings;
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But the defaults of a fleshly desire
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brings to the Soul
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many thousand sad tormentings;
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Be not proud, presumptuous man,
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sith thou art a point so base,
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Of the least and lowest Element,
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which hath least and lowest place,
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Mark thy Fate, and thy State,
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which is only Earth and Dust,
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And as Grass, which alass
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shortly surely perish must.
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Let not the hopes of an Earthly desire
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barr thee the joys,
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of an earnest contentation,
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Nor let not thy eye on the world be so fixt
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to hinder thy heart
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from unfeigned recantation;
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Be not backward in that course
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that may bring thy Soul delight,
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Although another war may seem
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farre more pleasant to thy sight;
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Do not go, if he says do,
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that knows the secrets of thy mind,
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Follow this, thou shalt not miss,
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an endless happiness to find.
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