Poem by Thomas Urquhart

Epigrams. The First Booke. ¹ 21. To one bewailing the death of another

You have no cause to thinke it strange, that he 
		Hath yeelded up his last, and fatall breath; 
For ’tis no wonder for a man to dye, 
	Whose life is but a journey into Death: 
Nor is there any man of life deprived 
For age, or sicknesse: but because he lived.

1. Epigrams. The First Booke. ¹ 32. That if we strove not more for superfluities, then for what is needfull, we would not be so much troubled, is wee are
2. Epigrams. The Second Booke. ¹ 13. What the subject of your conference ought to be with men of judgment, and account
3. Epigrams. The Second Booke. ¹ 29. A truely liberall man never bestoweth his gifts, in hope of recompence
4. Epigrams. The First Booke. ¹ 27. Of Lust, and Anger
5. Epigrams. The Second Booke. ¹ 24. No man should glory too much in the flourishing verdure of his Youth

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