Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/472

 The Vanity of all worldly things.^

A S he faicl vanity, fo vain fa}' I,

Oh! vanity, O vain all under Sky; Where is the man can fay, lo I have found On brittle Earth a Confolation found? What is't in honour to be fet on his^h ? No, they like Beafts and Sons of men fliall dye: And whil'ft they live, how oft doth turn their fate," He's now a captive,''' that was King'" of late. What is't in wealth, great Treafures to obtain?'' No, that's but labour, anxious care and pain. He heaps up riches, and he heaps up forrow, It's his to day, but who's his heir to morrow.^ What then? Content in pleafures canlt thou find. More vain then all, that's but to grafp the wind. The fenfual fenfes for a time they pleafe. Mean while the confcience rage, who fliall appeafe? What is't in beauty ? No that's but a fnare, [234]

They're foul enough to day, that once were fair. What is't in flowring 3'outh, or manly age? The firil: is prone to vice, the laft to rage.

��* See note to page 215. c a Prince.

��'^ Statej* i flave,

d for to gain ?

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