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Poem by Thomas Urquhart


Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 7. To one, who seemed to be grievously discontented with his poverty


LEt never want of money vexe your braine;
Seeing all contentment is in th'only mind,
To the which mony doth no more pertaine,
Then to the Hierarchies of Angel-kind:
Thus Gold being Earthly, and the mind sublime:
T'abase your spirit, is a sort of crime.



Thomas Urquhart


Thomas Urquhart's other poems:
  1. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 29. A truely liberall man never bestoweth his gifts, in hope of recompence
  2. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 1. How to behave ones selfe in all occasions
  3. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 7. That men are not destitute of remedies, within them∣selves against the shrewdest accidents, that can befall them
  4. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 21. To one, who did confide too much in the sound temperament, and goodly constitution of his bodily complexion
  5. 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


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