Unattributed Author

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

Acon his right, Leonilla her left eye
Doth want; yet each in form, the gods out-vie.
Sweet read more

Acon his right, Leonilla her left eye
Doth want; yet each in form, the gods out-vie.
Sweet boy, with thine, thy sister's sight improved:
So shall she Venus be, thou God of Love.
[Lat., Lumine Acon dextre,--capta est Leonilla sinistre,
Et potis est forma vincere uterque dees:
Blande puer, lumen quod habes concede sorori,
Sic tu caecus Amor, sic erit illa Venus.]

Tell me, shepherds, have you seen
My Flora pass this way?
In shape and feature Beauty's queen,
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Tell me, shepherds, have you seen
My Flora pass this way?
In shape and feature Beauty's queen,
In pastoral array.

Life's but a span, or a tale, or a word,
That in a trice, or suddaine, is rehearsed.

Life's but a span, or a tale, or a word,
That in a trice, or suddaine, is rehearsed.

Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.

Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.