Whoso with riches deals, And thinks peace bought and sold, Will find them slippery eels, That slide the firmest hold : Though sweet as sleep with health, Dost think that beauty's power, Along the summer plain, Look on the brightest eye, Nor teach it to be proud, But view the clearest sky And thou shalt find a cloud; Nor call each face ye meet An angel's, 'cause it's fair, But look beneath your feet, Who thinks that love doth live And melt in reason's thaw; Who thinks that pleasure lies Find poison in the flower. Dost lawless pleasures grasp? Dost doubt my warning song? Then doubt the sun gives light, Doubt truth to teach thee wrong, And wrong alone as right; And live as lives the knave, Intrigue's deceiving guest, Be tyrant, or be slave, As suits thy ends the best. Or pause amid thy toils, For visions won and lost, And count the fancied spoils, If e'er they quit the cost; And if they still possess Thy mind, as worthy things, Pick straws with Bedlam Bess, And call them diamond rings. Thy folly 's past advice, Thy heart's already won, The seeming great for small, Shall make wine vinegar, Wouldst heed the truths I sing, Clip folly's wanton wing, And keep her within call: I've little else to give, What thou canst easy try, The lesson how to live, Is but to learn to die. II. The Life and Age of Man. FROM One of Thackeray's Catalogues, preserved in the British Museum, it appears that "The Life and Age of Man" was one of the productions printed by him at the " Angel in Duck Lane, London." Thackeray's imprint is found attached to broadsides published between 1672 and 1688. The present reprint, the correctness of which is very questionable, is taken from a modern broadside. The editor has to express his regret, that he has not been able to meet with any older edition. IN prime of years, when I was young, I took delight in youthful ways, Not knowing then what did belong At two times seven I went to learn At three times seven I waxèd wild, When manhood led me to be bold; I thought myself no more a child, My own conceit it so me told: Then did I venture far and near, To buy delight at price full dear. At four times seven I take a wife, And leave off all my wanton ways, Thinking thereby perhaps to thrive, And save myself from sad disgrace. So farewell my companions all, For other business doth me call. At five times seven I must hard strive, What I could gain by mighty skill; But still against the stream I drive, And bowl up stones against the hill; The more I labor'd might and main, The more I strove against the stream. At six times seven all covetise At seven times seven all worldly thought Of water of experience plain; At eight times seven I waxèd old, At nine times seven take my leave Of former vain delights must I; It then full sorely did me grieve— I fetched many a heavy sigh; To rise up early, and sit up late, My former life, I loathe and hate. |