L.A. Seneca the philosopher, his booke of consolation to Marcia. Translated into an English poem

Cap. 23

BVt beside this, that future things are still Doubtfull, and never certaine but to ill, The passage is more easie, when the soule Is speedily dismissed from her foule Abode, for she doth then contract lesse slime, And to her station may more lightly clime. Great spirits cannot willingly reside Long in the body, nor those straights abide, But to breake through, and mount aloft, desire, And to their first originall aspire. And therefore learned Plato sayeth well, A wise mans mind on death doth ever dwell, Doth wish, doth will, and thereto in effect In all his actions hath his whole respect. When such grave vertue Marcia thou did'st view In thy yong Sonne, and how he did subdue All his affections, given to no vice, In midst of wealth abhorring avarice, How honour without pride he did possesse,

And recreations without wantonnesse, Couldst thou conceive that he could long remaine? What ere at highest is, goes backe againe; Vertue growne perfect vanisheth away; And fruits that ripen soone, doe soone decay, Fire that burnes cleare, is soone extinguished, That lasteth more that with grosse matter fed Burnes with a thicke smoake, for it best subsisteth With nourishment whose quality resisteth: So wit, that is most delicate and pure, Is ever found a short time to endure; For dissolution followeth apace, When as for future growth there is no place. Fabian reports a monstrous thing in nature, Of a child seene in Rome of a mans stature, But it soone dy'd, as wisemen did presage, His stature had so gained on his age. Decay doth still maturity attend, And things when growth is spent, draw neer their end.