Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours
Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honor for an inward toil,
And, for unfelt imaginations,
They often feel a world of restless cares,
So that between their titles and low name
There’s nothing differs but the outward fame.
Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honor for an inward toil,
And, for unfelt imaginations,
They often feel a world of restless cares,
So that between their titles and low name
There’s nothing differs but the outward fame.