Song from the Devil’s Law-Case
ALL the flowers of the springMeet to perfume our burying;These have but their growing prime,And man does flourish but his time.Survey our progress from our birth;We’re set, we grow, we turn to earth,Courts adieu, and all delights,All bewitching appetites!Sweetest breath and clearest eye,Like perfumes, go out and die;And consequently this is doneAs shadows wait upon the sun.Vain the ambition of kingsWho seek by trophies and dead thingsTo leave a living name behind,And weave but nets to catch the wind.