The same lamp that illuminated your yesternight,
Though gone out, once again may gel alight
A courageless man can 'gainst Time bewail,
Whereas the free Fate's stings, like honey hail.
That youth for noise of wars can not be fit,
Who hearing wail of birds at morn loses wit
I fear that you. have childish bent of heart,
Those selling sweets in West are full of art.