Annihilating All That's Made, To

Had It Lived Long, Is Would Have Been Lilies Without, Roses Within.

Therefore The Love Which Us Doth Bind, But Fate So Enviously Debars, Is The Conjunction Of The Mind, And Opposition Of The Stars.

But Fate Does Iron Wedges Drive, And Always Crowds Itself Betwixt.

Like The Vain Curlings Of The Watery Maze, Which In Smooth Streams A Sinking Weight Does Raise, So Man, Declining Always, Disappears In The Weak Circles Of Increasing Years; And His Short Tumults Of Themselves Compose, While Flowing Time Above His Head Does Close.

So Much One Man Can Do That Does Both Act And Know.