[* _Embay_, bathe.]
What more felicitie can fall to creature
Than to enioy delight with libertie, 210
And to be lord of all the workes of Nature,
To raine in th'aire from earth to highest skie,
To feed on flowres and weeds of glorious feature,
To take whatever thing doth please the eie?
Who rests not pleased with such happines, 215
Well worthie he to taste of wretchednes.
But what on earth can long abide in state?
Or who can him assure of happie day?
Sith morning faire may bring fowle evening late,
And least mishap the most blisse alter may! 220
For thousand perills lie in close awaite
About us daylie, to worke our decay;
That none, except a God, or God him guide,
May them avoyde, or remedie provide.
And whatso heavens in their secret doome 225
Ordained have, how can fraile fleshly wight
Forecast, but it must needs to issue come?
The sea, the aire, the fire, the day, the night,
And th'armies of their creatures, all and some*,
Do serve to them, and with importune might 230
Warre against us, the vassals of their will.
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