A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.
Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
Why, thou owest god a death.
No stony bulwark can resist the love, and love dares what anyone can love.
Justice always whirls in equal measure.
My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date; But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate.