The brightsome flower of beauty fades away,
Reason retires, and Pleasure brings in Woe,
And Wisdom yieldeth place to black decay.
Counsel, and fame, and friendship are condemned,
And bashful shame, and gods themselves contemned.
Watchful suspect is kindled with despair,
Inconstant hope is often drown’d in fears;
What folly hurts not, fortune can repair,
And misery doth swim in seas of tears.
Long use of life is but a living foe,