Look merrily then, and take thy repose;
For 'tis to no purpose to look so forlorn,
Since the World was as bad before thou wert born,
And when it will mend who knows?
And a thousand year hence 'tis all one,
10If thou lay'st on a dunghill, or sat'st on a throne.
II.
To be troubled, to be sad,
Carking mortal, 'tis a folly,
For a pound of Pleasure's not so bad