Thomas Nashe (1567 – 1601)
English Elizabethan pamphleteer, poet and satirist.
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Our learning ought to be our lives' amendment, and the fruits of our private study ought to appear in our public behavior.
Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour.
Many will it claim.
It makes your life disdain.
Brightness falls from the air,
Queens have died young and fair,
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die:
Lord, have mercy on us.
From winter, plague, & pestilence, good Lord, deliver us.
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant King,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug, jug, pu wee, to witta woo!
Blest is that government where no art thrives.
The Sun shineth as well on the good as the bad: God from on high beholdeth all the workers of iniquity, as well as the upright of heart.
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