Poem by William Davenant

* * *

WEEP no more for what is past,
For time in motion makes such haste
He hath no leisure to descry
Those errors which he passeth by.
If we consider accident,
And how repugnant unto sense
It pays desert with bad event,
We shall disparage Providence.

1. For the Lady Olivia Porter; a Present upon a New-years Day
2. The Christians Reply to the Phylosopher
3. Life and Death
4. Ladies in Arms
5. The Coquet

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