So all I lost and all I gat was nought,
And all by pride and pompe lay in the dust:
I aske you all what man aliue had thought,
That in this world had beene so litle trust:
Why, all thinges heare with time decline they must:
Than all is vaine so all not worth a flye,
Yf all shall thinke that all are borne to dye.
61.
Yf all bee bace, and of so small a count,
Why doe wee all in folly so abound?