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Poem by Thomas Urquhart
Epigrams. The First Booke. № 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.
Thomas Urquhart
Thomas Urquhart's other poems:- Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 1. How to behave ones selfe in all occasions
- Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 31. As it was a precept of antiquity, to leane more to vertue, then parentage: so is it a tenet of christianity, to repose more trust on the blood of christ, then our owne merits
- Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 18. That we ought not to be sorie at the losse of worldly goods
- Epigrams. The First Booke. № 25. Vertue, and goodnesse are very much opposed by the selfe-conceit, that many men have of their owne sufficiencie
- Epigrams. The First Booke. № 38. How Fortune oftentimes most praeposterously pond'ring the aections of men, with a great deale of injustice bestoweth her favours
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