ODE. 40.
1.
Move me no more, mad world, it is in va•…•…ne,
Experience tells me plaine
I should deceived be,
If ever I againe should trust in thee.
My weary heart hath ransackt all
Thy treasuries both great, and small,
And thy large inventories beares in minde:
Yet could it never finde
One place wherein to rest,
Though it hath often tried all the best.
2.
Thy profits brought me losse in stead of gaine,
And all thy pleasures paine:
Thine honours blurr'd my name
With the deep staines of self-confounding shame,
Thy wisdome made me turne starke fool,
And all the learning, that thy school
Afforded me, was not enough to make