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I would not blame him could he death out keep,
Or ease his pains or be secure of sleep:Or buy Heaven’s mansions—like the gods become,
And with his gold rule stars and moon and sun:Command the winds to blow, seas to obey,
Level their waves and make their breezes stay.But he no power hath unless to die,
And care in life is only misery.This care is but a word, an empty sound,
Wherein there is no soul nor substance found;Yet as his heir he makes it to inherit,
And all he has he leaves unto this spirit.To get this Child of Fame and this bare word,
He fears no dangers, neither fire nor sword:All horrid pains and death he will endure,
Or any thing can he but fame procure.O man, O man, what high ambition grows
Within his brain, and yet how low he goes!To be contented only with a sound,
Wherein is neither peace nor life nor body found.15202530IL9 UNIT 3 Independent Learning • Man’s Short Life and Foolish Ambition