Poem by Henry King, Bishop of Chichester

Sic Vita

Like to the falling of a star,
Or as the flights of eagles are,
Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue,
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 borrowed light
Is straight called in, and paid to night.
The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
The spring entombed in autumn lies;
The dew dries up, the star is shot;
The flight is past, and man forgot. 

1. The Boyes Answer To The Blackmoor
2. Sonnet. Go thou that vainly do'st mine eyes invite
3. To His Friends of Christ-Church upon the Mislike of the Marriage of the Arts Acted at Woodstock
4. To My Sister Anne King, Who Chid Me In Verse For Being Angry
5. Madam Gabrina, Or The Ill-Favourd Choice

Henry Thoreau Sic Vita ("I am a parcel of vain strivings tied")

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