Our life is most part o’er. What’s left us but to weep?”
“The wise man cares not for a little more or less.
These both will pass away, like torrent’s waywardness.
A torrent may be clear, or muddy, black as ink.
It will not last. Why then should we about it think?”45
“Within this world what millions, living creatures all,
A life of joy still lead, quite free from let or fall.
A dove is always cooing praises to the Lord,
Upon a tree, so long as day may light afford.
A nightingale sings hymns, God’s name to bless alway.