هنري الثامن

So farewell, to the little good you bear me. 350

Farewell? A long farewell to all my Greatness.

This is the state of Man; today he puts forth

The tender leaves of hopes, tomorrow blossoms,

And bears his blushing honors thick upon him:

The third day, comes a frost; a killing frost, 355

And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely

His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,

And then he falls as I do. I have ventur’d

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders:

صفحة غير معروفة