| «If I cast my eyes before me, what an Infinite space in which I do not exist; |
| And if I look behind me, what a terrible |
| Procession of years in which I do not |
| Exist, and how little space I occupy in This vast abyss of time…» |
| Like to the falling of a Starre; |
| Or as the flights of Eagles are; |
| Or like the fresh spring’s gawdy hew; |
| Or silver drops of morning dew; |
| Or like a wind that chafes the flood; |
| Or bubbles which on water stood; |
| Even such is man, whose borrow’d light |
| Is straight call’d in, and paid to night |
| The Wind blowes out; the Bubble dies; |
| The Spring entomb’d in Autumn lies; |
| The Dew dries up; the Starre is shot; |
| The Flight is past; and Man forgot |
| The wind blows out and the bubble dies |
| The spring entomb’d in autumn lies |
| The dew dries up and the starre is shot |
| The flight is past and man forgot |
| And earth covers earth |
| And time tryeth truth |
| Earth covers earth |
| Time tryeth true |