6.
And if he had liued a thou∣sand yeares twise told, and had seene no good, shall not all go to one place.
The multitude of yeares, but multiply
To the vnhappie, multitude of cares,
Two thousand yeares, to him that dead doth ly,
Are but one moment: all alike he fares,
But hours seem days, daies yeres, yeres millions seeme,
In care, griefe, agony, that spent we deeme.
Then how vnhappy is that hated man,
Whose long and wealthy life, in boorlesse blis,
In life no peace or ioy, enioy he can:
In death not honor haue, that proper is
To such, as by their liues do merit well,
Who dead, in sacred tombe do famous dwell.