|
|
|
|
With what sharp checks I in myself am shent When into Reason's audit I do go, And by just counts myself a bankrupt know Of all those goods which heaven to me hath lent, Unable quite to pay even Nature's rent, Which unto it by birthright I do owe: And which is worse, no good excuse can show, But that my wealth I have most idly spent. My youth doth waste, my knowledge brings forth toys, My wit doth strive those passions to defend Which for reward spoil it with vain annoys. I see my course to lose myself doth bend: I see, and yet no greater sorrow take Than that I lose no more for Stella's sake.
|