1How fast this creature runs upon the earth;
2Her loving it shows her ignoble
birth. 3How swift she swims within the tamed
seas; 4Let her but grovelling be, she is in peace
. 5But do but turn this turtle to the skies
; 6She sighs and sobs and discontented lies,
7And in this passion bathed in tears she dies.
8So let a miser fear the loss of’s
gold; 9His heart, like Nabal’s, instantly is cold.
10Tell him that Death is come to take his due;
11He’ll call for int’rest or your bonds renew.
12Bid gallants leave their dames, their drink, their dice;
13Not they (they’ll swear) for present paradise
. 14Tell them (in love) they’re at the abyss’s brink
; 15They’ll yawl and bawl
for wenches
or more drink. 16Bid a light
lady leave her wanton love; 17Not she, she vows, for all the joys above
. 18Tell her, ere long, her paint won’t hide her clay
; 19What doth she care, she’ll do it while she may.
20Put but these ranters
where they cannot roar, 21They lie like fish on the forsaken shore;
22Or curb these gallants of their vain desire,
23They’re like pyraustas
kept out of the fire; 24Or take these wantons from their vanity,
25These like this simple creature
blubb’ring lie, 26And in despair most commonly they die.
27Then hear a friend
that tells you but the truth: 28Remember thy Creator in thy youth,
29And leave those follies ere they do leave you,
30Or else expect that Hell will have its due.