_Why doth the world study vain glory to attain, The prosperity whereof is short and transitory, Whose mighty power doth fall down again, Like earthen pots, that breaketh suddenly? Believe rather words that be written in ice, Than the wretched world with his subtlety, Deceitful in gifts, men only to entice, Destitute of all sure credence and fidelity. Give credit more to men of true judgments Than to the worldly renown and joys, Replenished with dreams and vain intents, Abounding in wicked and naughty toys. Where is now Salomon, in wisdom so excellent? Where is now Samson, in battle so strong? Where is now Absalom, in beauty resplendent? Where is now good Jonathas, hid so long? Where is now Caesar, in victory triumphing? Where is now Dives, in dishes so dainty? Where is now Tully, in eloquence exceeding? Where is now Aristotle, learned so deeply? What emperors, kings, and dukes in times past, What earls and lords, and captains of war, What popes and bishops, all at the last In the twinkling of an eye are fled so far? How short a feast is this worldly joying? Even as a shadow it passeth away, Depriving a man of gifts everlasting, Leading to darkness and not to day! O meat of worms, O heap of dust, O like to dew, climb not too high! To live to-morrow thou canst not trust, Therefore now betime help the needy. The fleshly beauty, whereat thou dost wonder, In holy Scripture is likened to hay, And as a leaf in a stormy weather, So is man's life blowen clean away. Call nothing thine that may be lost: The world doth give and take again, But set thy mind on the Holy Ghost; Despite the world that is so vain!_ FINIS. THE MARRIAGE OF WIT AND SCIENCE. [The title of the old copy is: _A new and Pleasaunt_ enterlude intituled the mariage of Witte and Science. Imprinted at London in Flete Streete, neare vnto sainct Dunstones churche by Thomas Marshe. 4°, black letter.