The Eastern Conqueror was said to weep When he the Indian Oce-an did view, To see his Conquest bounded by the Deep, And no more Worlds remaining to subdue. Who would that man in his Enjoyment bless, Or envy him, or covet his Estate, Whose gettings do augment his greediness. And make his wishes more intemperate? Such is the wonted and the common guise Of those on Earth that bear the greatest sway; If with a few the case be otherwise. They seek a Kingdom that abides for aye. Moreover they of all the Sons of Men That rule, and are in highest Places set, Are most inclin’d to scorn their Bretheren, And God himself (without great Grace) forget. For as the Sun doth blind the gazers’ eyes, That for a time they naught discern aright, So Honor doth befool and blind the Wise, And their own lustre ’reaves them of their sight. Great are their Dangers, manifold their Cares, Through which, whilst others sleep, they scarcely Nap, And yet are oft surprised unawares. And fall unwilling into Envy’s Trap. The mean Mechanic finds his kindly rest; All void of fear sleepeth the Country Clown; When greatest Princes often are distrest, And cannot sleep upon their Beds of Down. Could Strength or Valor men Immortalize, Could Wealth or Honor keep them from decay There were some cause the same to Idolize, And give the lie to that which I do say. But neither can such things themselves end are, Without the hazard of a change, one hour. Nor such as trust in them can they secure From dismal days, or Death’s prevailing pow’r. If Beauty could the Beautiful defend From Death’s dominion, then fair Absalom Had not been brought to such a shameful end: But fair and foul unto the Grave must come. If Wealth or Scepters could Immortal make, Then, vrealthy Croesus, wherefore art thou dead? If Warlike force which makes the World to quake, Then why is Julius Caesar perished? Where are the Scipio’s Thunderbolts of War? Renownéd Pompey, Caesar’s Enemy? Stout Hannibal, Rome’s Terror known so far? Great Alexander, what’s become of thee? If Gifts and Bribes Death’s favor might but win, If Pow’r, if Force, or Threat’nings might it fray. All these, and more had still surviving been; But all are gone, for Death will have no Nay. Such is this World, with all her Pomp and Glory; Such are the men whom worldly eyes admire, Cut down by time, and now become a Story, That we might after better things aspire. Go boast thyself of what thy heart enjoys, Vain Man! triumph in all thy worldly Bliss: Thy best Enjoyments are but Trash and Toys; Delight thyself in that which worthless is. _Omnia prœtereunt prœter amare Deum._ Death Expected and Welcomed. “Welcome sweet Rest, by me so long Desir’d, Who have with Sins and Griefs so long been tir’d; And welcome Death, my Father’s Messenger; Of my Felicity the Hastener. Welcome good Angels, who, for me distrest, Are come to guard me to Eternal Rest. Welcome, Christ, who hast my Soul Redeem’d, Whose Favor I have more than Life esteem’d.