Part the First
I A Meditation Upon the Frailty of This Life
O trifling toys that toss the brains,
While loathsome life doth last;
O wishèd wealth, O sugared joys,
O life when death is past;
Who loaths exchange of loss with gain? 5
Yet loath we death as hell.
What woeful wight would wish his woe?
Yet wish we here to dwell.
O Fancy frail, that feeds on earth,
And stays on slippery joys; 10
O noble mind, O happy man,
That can contemn such toys!
Such toys as neither perfect are,
And cannot long endure;
Our greatest skill, our sweetest joy, 15
Uncertain and unsure.
For life is short, and learning long,
All pleasure mixt with woe;
Sickness and sleep steal time unseen,
And joys do come and go. 20
Thus learning is but learned by halves,
And joy enjoyed no while;
That serves to show thee what thou want’st,
This helps thee to beguile.
But after death is perfect skill, 25
And joy without decay;
When sin is gone, that blinds our eyes,
And steals our joys away;
No crowing cock shall raise us up,
To spend the day in vain; 30
No weary labour shall us drive
To go to bed again.
But for we feel not what we want,
Nor know not what we have;
We love to keep the body’s life, 35
We loath the soul to save.
Anon.