When as Man's life, the light of human lust
In socket of his early lanthorne burnes
That all this glory unto ashes must
And generation to corruption turnes;
Then fond desires that onely feare their end
Doe vainely wish for life, but to amend
But when this life is from the body fled
To see it selfe in that eternall Glasse
Where time doth end, and thoughts accuse the dead
Where all to come, is one with all that was;
Then living men aske how he left his breath
That while he lived he never thought of death