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Nor favour doth to men of knowledge fall,
But chance (as would appear) doth order all.
So, if the second causes we do view,
We shall finde out a paradoxe most true.
But O thou prime and supreme cause of all,
Nothing to thee by fortune doth befall,
For Thou, in midst of all these great confusions
Foresees, and workes most permanent conclusions,
Keeping most comely order in varieties,
And making concord in all contrarieties.
Hence doth it come to passe of thy benignitie,
That wicked men possesse both wealth and dignitie.
But, as its written, riches are preserv'd,[1]
And for the evill of th'owners are reserv'd:
And as a mightie load the bearers smothers,
So some to their owne hurt rule over others,
Not looking to th'account they must needs make,[2]
Nor how their smiling fortune may turn back,
Whose honour like the sea doth ebbe and flow,
Whose beautie hath the time to fade and grew,
Whose riches, like the Eagle, hath their wings,
Now lighting down on earth, to Heaven then springs.[3]
The body's Summer rose is quickly gone,
By winters stormie age all overblowne,
To shew earths constant changes: and that all
Which here on earth do spring must likewise fall.
Thrise happie he that state who quickly findes,
Which is not shaken with earths contrare windes!
Hence Solitarie and poore content I live,
Sith bitter hap blind fortune doth not give:
And, like Diogenes, contemplate all,
Within my Cabine, that here doth befall:
Which gives me subject both to sing and mourne,
The times ov'rpast, which never shall returne.
But chance (as would appear) doth order all.
So, if the second causes we do view,
We shall finde out a paradoxe most true.
But O thou prime and supreme cause of all,
Nothing to thee by fortune doth befall,
For Thou, in midst of all these great confusions
Foresees, and workes most permanent conclusions,
Keeping most comely order in varieties,
And making concord in all contrarieties.
Hence doth it come to passe of thy benignitie,
That wicked men possesse both wealth and dignitie.
But, as its written, riches are preserv'd,[1]
And for the evill of th'owners are reserv'd:
And as a mightie load the bearers smothers,
So some to their owne hurt rule over others,
Not looking to th'account they must needs make,[2]
Nor how their smiling fortune may turn back,
Whose honour like the sea doth ebbe and flow,
Whose beautie hath the time to fade and grew,
Whose riches, like the Eagle, hath their wings,
Now lighting down on earth, to Heaven then springs.[3]
The body's Summer rose is quickly gone,
By winters stormie age all overblowne,
To shew earths constant changes: and that all
Which here on earth do spring must likewise fall.
Thrise happie he that state who quickly findes,
Which is not shaken with earths contrare windes!
Hence Solitarie and poore content I live,
Sith bitter hap blind fortune doth not give:
And, like Diogenes, contemplate all,
Within my Cabine, that here doth befall:
Which gives me subject both to sing and mourne,
The times ov'rpast, which never shall returne.
I praise