Thou Gaudy Idle World Adieu

Thou Gaudy Idle world adieu, & all thy tinsell Joys; I lovd thee dearly once tis true, But since a better choice I knew, Ive made that better choice. My wishes mount above the sky Upon the wings of faith, My soul shall follow when I dy, For much I doubt if bodys fly, What ever Asgill saith. All things are fickle here below, How ere above they be, & If I had not left thee now, Thy pleasures had left me. Count but the changes Memory Which your short time has known, This is the third King which you see Upon the English throne. The Irish who by Williams reign Were run so much aground, Do by the Trust (confound it) Gain three hundred thousand pound. & My acquaintance wonder not When you my change discover Ev'n Methwin has a prayr book bought 'Gainst Rochester comes over.