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Poem by Thomas Urquhart


Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 15. To a certain lady of a most exquisit feature, and comely presentation: but who gloried too much in the deceitfull excellencie of these fading, and perishable qualities


THough you be very handsome, doe but stay
A litle while, and you will see a change;
For beautie flieth with the tyme away,
Wherwith it comes: nor must you think it strange,
Page  26 That hardly being skin deepe in the most faire,
And but a separable accident
Of bodys, which, but living shadowes are;
(And therfore frayle) it is not permanent;
Be then not proud of that, which at the best,
Decrepit age will spoyle: or sicknesse wast.



Thomas Urquhart


Thomas Urquhart's other poems:
  1. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 7. To one, who seemed to be grievously discontented with his poverty
  2. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 26. Consolation to a poore man
  3. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 15. To one, who was excessively cheerefull, for being recovered of a Fever, wherewith he had beene for a time extreame sorely sha∣ken
  4. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 37. To a generously disposed Gentleman, who was maine sorrie, that he had not wherewith to remunerat the favours, by the which he was obliged to the curtesie of a friend
  5. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 44. Age meerly depending on the continuall Flux of time, we have very small reason to boast of a long life, already obtained: or be proud of the hope, hereafter to attaine un∣to it


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