Gloriae lata via

THOVGH life be short, and man doth as the Sunne,
His iourney finish, in a little space,
The way is wide, an honest course to runne,
And great the glories of a virtuous race,
That at the last, doe our iust labors crowne,
With threefold wreath, Loue, Honor, and Renowne.

Nor can Nights shadow, or the Stygian deepe,
Conceale faire Virtue, from the worldes wide eie,
The more opprest, the more she striues to peepe,
And raise her Rose-bound golden head on high:
When Epicures, the wretch, and worldly slaue,
Shall rot in shame, aliue, and in the graue.