piecemeals cut, and hurl'd
By factious hands. It is a ball
Which Fate and force divide 'twixt all
The sons of men. But, O good God!
While these for dust fight, and a clod,
Grant that poor I may smile, and be
At rest and perfect peace with Thee!

CASIMIRUS, [LYRICORUM] LIB. II. ODE VII.

It would less vex distressed man
If Fortune in the same pace ran
To ruin him, as he did rise.
But highest States fall in a trice;
No great success held ever long;
A restless fate afflicts the throng
Of kings and commons, and less days
Serve to destroy them than to raise.
Good luck smiles once an age, but bad
Makes kingdoms in a minute sad,
And ev'ry hour of life we drive,
Hath o'er us a prerogative.
Then leave--by wild impatience driv'n,
And rash resents--to rail at heav'n;
Leave an unmanly, weak complaint
That death and fate have no restraint.
In the same hour that gave thee breath,
Thou hadst ordain'd thy hour of death,
But he lives most who here will buy,
With a few tears, eternity.

CASIMIRUS, [LYRICORUM] LIB. III. ODE XXII.

Let not thy youth and false delights
Cheat thee of life; those heady flights
But waste thy time, which posts away
Like winds unseen, and swift as they.
Beauty is but mere paint, whose dye
With Time's breath will dissolve and fly;
'Tis wax, 'tis water, 'tis a glass,
It melts, breaks, and away doth pass.
'Tis like a rose which in the dawn
The air with gentle breath doth fawn
And whisper to, but in the hours
Of night is sullied with smart showers.
Life spent is wish'd for but in vain,
Nor can past years come back again.
Happy the man, who in this vale
Redeems his time, shutting out all
Thoughts of the world, whose longing eyes
Are ever pilgrims in the skies,
That views his bright home, and desires
To shine amongst those glorious fires!

CASIMIRUS, LYRIC[ORUM] LIB. III. ODE XXIII.

'Tis not rich furniture and gems,
With cedar roofs and ancient stems,
Nor yet a plenteous, lasting flood
Of gold, that makes man truly good.
Leave to inquire in what fair fields
A river runs which much gold yields;
Virtue alone is the rich prize
Can purchase stars, and buy the skies.
Let others build with adamant,
Or pillars of carv'd marble plant,
Which rude