Sonnet 20

IF crost with all mishaps be my poore Life,
If one short day I never spent in mirth,
If my Sp'rit with it selfe holds lasting strife,
If sorrows death is but new sorrows birth;
If this vaine World be but a mournfull Stage,
Where slave-borne Man plaies to the laughing Stars,
If Youth be toss'd with Love, with Weaknesse Age,
If Knowledge serves to hold our Thoughts in Wars,
If Time can close the hundred Mouths of Fame,
And make what's long since past, like that's to be,
If Vertue only be an Idle Name,
If being borne I was but borne to dye;
Why seek I to prolong these loathsome daies?
The fairest Rose in shortest time decaies.