To William Roe

When nature bids us leave to live, 'tis late
Then to begin, my Roe! He makes a state
In life, that can employ it; and takes hold
On the true causes, ere they grow too old.
Delay is bad, doubt worse, depending worst;
Each best day of our life escapes us, first:
Then, since we, more than many, these truths know;
Though life be short, let us not make it so.