Description: PAINTING Embedded TEXT:
MAN be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, though you may think’st your bounty overflow,
Think not, poore man, nor canst thou conquer me.
For wise and great, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then for mee, much more I know,
So it seems our best chance with thee doe goe,
Yet with us waits our patient deliverie.
Thou art slave to power, fear and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse swell,
Yet poppie, or charmes can make thee sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
Ones’ short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And thou shall be no more; man, thou shalt die.