In state of life? O weake life! that does leane
On thing so tickle as th’vnsteady ayre;
Which euery howre is chang’d, and altred cleane
With euery blast that bloweth fowle or faire:
The faire doth it prolong; the fowle doth it impaire.
Therein the changes infinite beholde, xxiii
Which to her creatures euery minute chaunce;
Now, boyling hot: streight, friezing deadly cold:
Now, faire sun-shine, that makes all skip and daunce:
Streight, bitter storms and balefull countenance,