Be not proud, but now encline Your soft eare to Discipline. You have changes in your life, Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife: You have ebbes of face and flowes, As your health or comes, or goes; You have hopes, and doubts, and feares Numberlesse, as are your haires. You have Pulses that doe beat High, and passions lesse of heat. You are young, but must be old, And, to these, ye must be told, Time, ere long, will come and plow Loathed Furrowes in your brow: And the dimnesse of your eye Will no other thing imply, But you must die As well as I. |