Love in her sunny eyes does basking play

Well then; I now do plainly see This busy world and I shall ne'er agree; The very honey of all earthly joy Does of all meats the soonest cloy, And they (methinks) deserve my pity, Who for it can endure the stings,

Who lets slip Fortune, her shall never find, Occasion once passed by, is bald behind.

Lukewarmness I account a sin As great in love as in religion.

The world's a scene of changes, and to be Constant, in Nature were inconstancy.

Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.

Ah, yet, ere I descend to th' grave May I a small house, and large garden have! And a few friends, and many books, both true, Both wise, and both delightful too! And since Love ne'er will from mee flee, A mistress moderately fair,