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ABRAHAM COWLEY.

41

Books should, not business, entertain

the light,

LIBERTY.

And sleep, as undisturbed as death, the WHERE honor or where conscience does

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For he that runs it well twice runs his The bondman of the cloister so

race.

And in this true delight,

These unbought sports, this happy state, I would not fear, nor wish, my fate;

But boldly say each night, To-morrow let my sun his beams display, Or in clouds hide them; I have lived today.

All that he does receive does always owe;
And still as time comes in, it goes away,
Not to enjoy, but debts to pay.
Unhappy slave and pupil to a bell!
Which his hour's work, as well as hours,
does tell!

Unhappy to the last, the kind releasing knell.

FROM DRYDEN TO BURNS.

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