Is this a life? Nay, death you may it call, That feels each pain and knows no joy at all. - Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux of Harrowden

I loathe that I did love, In youth that I thought sweet;
As time requires, for my behove, Methinks they are not meet.
* * *
For age with stealing steps Hath clawed me with his clutch,
And lusty life away she leaps, As there had been none such.

When all is done and said, in the end thus shall you find,
He most of all doth bathe in bliss that hath a quiet mind.

Our wealth leaves us at death, our kinsmen at the grave;
But virtue of the mind unto the heavens with us we have.