Frail Mortality

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Nosce Teipsum

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Spew out thy filth, thy flesh abjure
Let not contingents thee defile
For transients only are impure
And aery things thy soul beguile

The soul, escaped the slavish trade
(Of mortal life) for in this earthly frame
Manifold motions, making little speed,
To deform and kill the things whereon we feed

Eternal, boundless, undecayed
A thought unseen but seeing all
All in earth or skies displayed
Shall it survey, shall it recall

Each fainter trace that memory holds
So darkly of departed years
In one broad glance the soul beholds
And all that was at once appears

This world's a bubble and the life of a man
Less than a span
In his conception, wretched from the womb
So to the tomb

Who then to frail immortality shall trust
But limns on water or but writes in the dust

Cursed from the cradle and brought up to years
With cares and with fears
Yet whilst with sorrow here we live oppressed
What life is best?

Our own affections, still at home to please
Is a disease
Wars with their noise frighten us when they cease
We are worse in peace

Who then to frail immortality shall trust
But limns on water or but writes in the dust
What then remains but that we still should cry
For being born, or being born to die

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