Now fie upon him! what is Man, <br />Whose life at best is but a span? <br />When to an inch it dwindles down, <br />Ice in his bones, snow on his Crown, <br />That he within his crazy brain, <br />Kind thoughts of Love should entertain, <br />That he, when Harvest comes should plow <br />And when 'tis time to reap, go sowe, <br />Who in imagination only strong, <br />Tho' twice a Child, can never twice grow young <br /> <br /> II. <br /> <br />Nature did those design for Fools, <br />That sue for work, yet have no tools. <br />What fellow feeling can there be <br />In such a strange disparity? <br />Old age mistakes the youthful breast, <br />Love dwels not there, but interest: <br />Alas Good Man! take thy repose, <br />Get ribband for thy thumbs, and toes, <br />Provide thee flannel, and a sheet of lead, <br />Think on thy Coffin, not thy bridal bed.<br /><br />Thomas Flatman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/advice-to-an-old-man-of-sixty-three-about-to-mar/
