Why doe the meane and mighty seeke to mount,
Beyonde all hope where is no surety found,
And where the wheele is alwayes turning round?
The case is plaine if all bee vnderstood,
Wee are so vaine wee knowe not what is good.
62.
Yet some will say, when they haue heapes of golde,
With flocks of friends, and seruaunts at theyr call,
They liue like gods in pleasure treble folde,
And haue no cause to finde no fault at all: