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1 Cur mundus militat, sub vana gloria, Cuius prosperitas, est transitoria? Tam citò labitur, eius potentia, Quàm vasa figuli, quæ sunt fragilia? 1 Why[2] so triumphes the world, in pompe and glorie vaine, Whose state so happie thought, so fickle[3] doth remaine? Whose brauerie slipprie stands, and doth so soone decaie, As doth the potters pan, compact of brittle claie? 2 Plus crede literis, scriptis in glacie, Quàm mundi fragilis, vanæ fallaciæ, Fallax in præmijs, virtutis specie, Quæ nunquam habuit tempus fiduciæ. 2 More credite sée thou giue, to letters wrote in ise, Than vnto vaine deceits, of brittle worlds deuise. In gifts to vertue due, beguiling many one, Yet those same neuer haue long time to hope vpon. 3 Magis credendum est, viris fallacibus, Quàm mundi miseris prosperitatibus, Falsis insanijs et voluptatibus, Falsis quoque studijs et vanitatibus. 3 To false dissembling men more trust is to be had, Than to the prosperous state of wretched world so bad: What with voluptuousnes, and other maddish toies, False studies won with paine, false vanities and ioies. 4 Dic vbi Salomon, olim tam nobilis? Vel vbi Samson est, dux invincibilis? Vel dulcis Ionathas, multùm amabilis? Vel pulcher Absolon, vultu mirabilis? 4 Tell where is Salomon, that once so noble was? Or where now Samson is, in strength whome none could pas? Or woorthie Ionathas, that prince so louely bold? Or faier Absolon, so goodlie to behold? 5 Quò Cæsar abijt, celsus imperio? Vel Diues splendidus, totus in prandio? Dic vbi Tullius, clarus eloquio? Vel Aristoteles, summus ingenio? 5 Shew whither is Cesar gone, which conquered far and néere? Or that rich famous Carle,[E486] so giuen to bellie chéere: Shew where is Tullie now, for eloquence so fit? Or Aristoteles, of such a pregnant wit? 6 O esca vermium! ô massa pulueris! O ros! ô vanitas! cùr sic extolleris, Ignoras penitùs vtrùm cras vixeris, Fac bonum omnibus, quàm diu poteris. 6 O thou fit bait for wormes![E487] O thou great heape of dust! O dewe! O vanitie! why so extolst thy lust? Thou therefore ignorant, what time thou hast to liue, Doe good to erie man, while here thou hast to giue. 7 Quàm breue festum est, hæc mundi gloria? Vt umbra hominis, sic eius gaudia, Quæ semper subtrahit, æterna præmia, Et ducunt hominem, ad dura deuia. 7 How short a feast (to count) is this same worlds renowne? Such as mens shadowes be, such ioies it brings to towne. Which alway plucketh vs from Gods eternall blis: And leadeth man to hell, a iust reward of his. 8 Hæc mundi gloria, quæ magni penditur, Sacris in literis, flos fæni dicitur, Vt leue folium, quod vento rapitur, Sic vita hominum, hac vita tollitur. 8 The brauerie of this world, estéemed here so much, In Scripture likened is, to flowre of grasse and such: Like as the leafe so light, through winde abrode is blowne, So life in this our life, full soone is ouerthrowne.[4]