Classic Poem

Sith Truth it selfe, cals this life sowr, as vaine,
What is lesse sensible then Sence, that deemes
It Sweet, sith so to sensual sence it seemes
Which not a thought in one state doth remaine
I see it such, with Obseruations Eyes
That ey the inside of all outward Showes;
Which cleerly showes, Life ebs the more it flowes,
And when it longst hath lyued soonest dyes
A King this moment, that Kings adorate,
The next, a Corse, Slaues loath to look vpon:
Then, was he King but in opinion,
Which alters with the altring of his state:
O then sith Life is but a dreame of breath,
In this lifes Dream Ile nought but dream of deth.