5They prun'd theire wings, and tooke theire flight in rage;
fortune to fooles, loue to gold, and tyme to age.
Fooles, gold, and age, (o foolish golden age!)
Witt, fayth, and loue must begg, must brybe, must dy;
These are the actors and the world's the stage,
10Desert and hope are as but standers by:
True lovers sit and tune this restlesse song;
Fortune, loue, and tyme haue done me wrong.
〈Fortune, Love, and Time.〉 Ed: no title and no punctuation, Bur