I made my selfe a monke, (ceasse Memory to muse)
A monke I made my selfe, thou knowst it passing playne:
Amongste the friers there, I led my lyngring life:
And tyl my dying day I daily did deuise,
How by my meanes it might to all the worlde be knowne,
That mortall flesh is frayle, and euery thing must fade:
And euen amongst those thinges which nature doth create,
Nothing so vile as man amongst the rest is founde,
Which made Heraclitus with ceasslesse sighes to wayle,
He to hys dying day did nothing els but weepe,