Anne Bradstreet

Contemplations

So he that faileth in this world of pleasure,

Feeding on sweets, that never bit of th’ sowre,

That’s full of friends, of honour and of treasure,

Fond fool, he takes this earth ev’n for heav’ns bower,

But sad affliction comes and makes him see

Here’s neither honour, wealth, nor safety;

Only above is found all with security.