Verses on the late William Earle of Pembrook

THe doubtfull feares of Change so fright my Mind,
Though raised to the highest joy in Love,
As in this slippery state more griefe I find,
Than they who never such a blisse did prove;
But fed with lingring hopes of …uture Gaine,
Dreame not what 'tis to doubt a Losers Paine.

Desire a safer Harbour is than Feare,
And not to rise lesse danger than to fall;
The want of Jewels we far better beare,
Than so possest at once to lose them all:
Unsatisfied Hopes Time may repaire,
When ruin'd Faith must finish in despaire.

Alas! Ye look but up the Hill on me,
Which shews to you a faire and smooth ascent,
The Precipice behind ye cannot see,
On which high Fortunes are too pronely bent:
If there I slip, what former joy or blisse
Can heale the bruise of such a fall as this?