Vain man! said he, and would thou wer’st not vain
That hid’st thy self in solitary shade
And spil’st thy precious youth in sad disdain
Hating this lifes delight! Hath god thee made
Part of this world, and wilt not thou partake
Of this worlds pleasure for its makers sake?
Unthankfull wretch! Gods gifts thus to reject
And maken nought of Natures goodly dower
That milders still away through thy neglect
And dying fades like unregarded flower.