Things oft that tide, and oft that neuer bee.
Without respect esteeming equally
King Crœsus pompe, and Irus pouertie.
And next in order sad Old Age we found,
His beard all hoare, his eyes hollow and blind,
With drouping cheere still poring on the ground,
As on the place where nature him assign’d
To rest, when that the sisters had vntwin’d
His vitall thred, and ended with their knife
The fleeting course of fast declining life.