Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
What the declin'd is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;
And not a man for being simply man
Hath any honour, but honour for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, and favour,
Prizes of accident, as oft as merit;
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall.
And it is great; To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories