How is the Contrast of Youth and Age Treated in Selected Poems by William Butler Yeats and
Anne Bradstreet?
Kristina Hagen
May 2012
English A1
Ms. Nancy Foster
Word Count: 3,995
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Table of Contents
1. Abstract…………………………………………………………………………………………3
2. Essay………………………………………………………………………………………...4-15
3. Works Cited………………………………………………………………………..………16-17
4. Poems by William Butler Yeats and Anne Bradstreet Used in Essay……………………..18-29
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Abstract
William Butler Yeats and Anne Bradstreet are both contrasting poets with very separate
backgrounds. The two not only come from different time periods, but also have diverse religious
beliefs and come from separate parts of the world. The poets do have several similarities as well
though, and the major one is that they both deal with the topic of youth and age in their select
pieces of poetry. To further the link between the two poets, the question asked becomes: How is
the Contrast of Youth and Age Treated in Selected Poems by William Butler Yeats and
Anne Bradstreet?
To figure out the answer to this question, the backgrounds of each poet are explained in
depth. Specific elements of their backgrounds are then analyzed in the way that they could have
influenced the poet and the poems produced. Then, the particular poems chosen are analyzed in
relation to youth and age. A selection of five poems by Yeats and one poem by Bradstreet are
used for analyzing the topic of youth and age and how this topic shows to be similar and/or
different in the poems.
After reading and examining the selected poems by the two poets, the major result was
that both poets have several differences and also several similarities. There were many ideas
used which were the same in both poets’ works, including the idea that spring is associated with
youth. The disparities mainly involved distinctions in background. Bradstreet was very clear
about her faith in Puritan beliefs, while Yeats wasn’t very sure about religion, and this too is
shown in their work regarding youth and age. By using quotes and the backgrounds of the two,
these conclusions were made, justifying the similarities and differences between how the two
poets treated the contrast of youth and age.
(299 Words)
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Anne Bradstreet and William Butler Yeats were two poets that had well-built
beliefs as to the idea of youth and the idea of old age. Though the two poets were extremely
different in their beliefs and backgrounds, several of their ideas pertaining to youth and age were
similar in nature—though other ideas differed absolutely. Through the comparing and
contrasting of the topic of youth and age portrayed by five poems by Yeats and one poem by
Bradstreet, understanding and analyzing the themes of the poems, and examining varying factors
which may have led to the themes or beliefs present, the concept of youth and age can be
explored through the poems written by two very distinct poets.
Both Bradstreet and Yeats have strong beliefs concerning the different stages of life.
These beliefs were not produced simply from their own minds, but from their own experiences,
their own religious and family beliefs, even their own time periods. Both lived through unrelated
times in history, illustrating another contrast between the two, and these time periods helped
shape their lives and poetry. Because the years that they lived through were so unlike, the two
poets had very different backgrounds as well—though both ended up with each contemplating
about life and the stages within it.
Anne Bradstreet was born in 1612 in Northampton, England to Thomas Dudley and
Dorothy Yorke. At the young, but educated age of sixteen, she married Simon Bradstreet. In the
same year, she, Simon, and her parents all sailed to the Massachusetts Bay Colony in America,
leaving their England home behind. During Bradstreet’s life, she reared eight children and chose
to home-school them all. The Bradstreets moved several times throughout their lives, first to
Cambridge, then on to Ipswich, and finally to Andover, Massachusetts was where they would
reside for the rest of their lives.
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Bradstreet lived in a Puritan family for her entire life. She grew up with Puritan parents
and four siblings, and she married Simon, who was the son of a Puritan minister. Needless to
say, Bradstreet was not exposed to many other religions within her life, and she chose to accept
and believe in the religion that she had grown up with. Bradstreet’s poems were very intertwined
with her religious beliefs, and she was open to expressing her beliefs through writing. Her first
book of poetry, was entitled, The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung Up in America, By a Gentlewoman
of Those Parts and published in England in 1650 (Bradstreet’s brother-in-law had taken her
poems to England on a trip back, and published them). In the year 1678, the book of poems was
revised and an American edition was produced. This book of poetry was actually the first book
written by a woman that was published in the United States. As Bradstreet continued to write,
several of her poems produced were meant for her family, but were later published and revealed
to the public after her death.
Bradstreet’s poetry revealed numerous things about her private life and her beliefs. She
wrote of her spirituality as her faith grew in the Puritan religion, and she also wrote of her family
and events that shaped her life. She wrote poems of events that occurred, including “Upon the
Burning of Our House”, a poem which told the sad story of her family’s home going up in
flames—a very real event indeed. Moreover, she wrote about how she was adjusting to America
and her new surroundings. Bradstreet died in the year 1672, as her physical ailments finally
caused her death. She had led the life of a mother who wished to document her days in a
different way than most—through poetry. Yeats on the other hand, led a very contrasting life
filled with very different beliefs.
William Butler Yeats was born in 1865 to John Butler Yeats and Susan Pollexfen in
County Dublin, Ireland. Throughout Yeats’ childhood, he spent countless holidays in Sligo with
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his grandparents, where he began to love Ireland. In 1880, Yeats’ family moved back to Dublin
from London, but in 1887, the family moved to London once more. Yeats’ very first publication
came in the “Dublin University Review” where he wrote two lyrics in 1885. Yeats also began to
study different religions, and his beliefs began to change. Unlike Bradstreet, Yeats did not
affiliate himself with the religious beliefs of his family—he grew up with a Roman Catholic
family and several Protestant relatives—but went on his own path to discover a way of life that
was his own.
Yeats’ first step in his religious journey was looking at various religions and deciding if
there was one for him. After looking at Buddhism, Occultism, and several others, Yeats became
involved in the Theosophical Society of London, which focused on Occultism and the
phenomena associated with it. Yeats went through training which helped him learn the different
ways of magic, but when the study of magic proved unsuccessful, Yeats moved on to a group
called “The Esoteric Order of the Golden Dawn”. This group included a new type of magic that
had a focus on astrology that Yeats had not practiced before.
Along Yeats’ journey, he also came up with his own mythology, which he wrote about in
several of his poems. This “mythology” didn’t have a specific meaning, which he did on
purpose, to allow his audience to question and to guess about what he meant and believed. His
mythology though, did have several solid bits that he repeated constantly, one being a cyclic
view of life and history. Yeats also included numerous images in his works to emphasize his
mythology, including the images of a blind man, lame man, and beggar. These visuals too, were
supposed to reveal portions of Yeats’ own life, but did little to explain the individual portions
further.
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Yeats’ poetry relied heavily on his mythology, but did not focus heavily on his own
personal life, with his failure of finding the right wife for himself. Yeats met Maud Gonne in
1889, and fell absolutely in love with her. He asked for her hand in marriage in 1899, but was
turned down. In 1917, Yeats fell for Gonne’s daughter, Iseult, and asked for her hand in marriage
as well. But, again, Yeats was rejected. Two weeks after proposing to Iseult, he proposed to
another woman, Miss George Hyde, and she accepted. The two married and George gave birth to
a daughter and a son. In 1923, Yeats was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, and in 1939,
Yeats died while abroad, and was buried in France.
Anne Bradstreet and William Butler Yeats led very separate lives with different families,
contrasting religious beliefs, and in disconnected time periods. Because both Bradstreet and
Yeats led extremely opposite lives, they have many differences in their poetry concerning youth
and age. Considering all these contrasts though, there are many similarities as well, and the two
give their distinct beliefs, ideas, and opinions on the concept of young age and old age through
several of their works of poetry.
The poem by Anne Bradstreet that was used to discover her beliefs concerning old age
and youth was the poem entitled, “The Four Ages of Man”. Over four hundred lines, this poem
was most likely written by Bradstreet during the 1640s—the exact date is not found—when she
was about thirty years old. The poem explores the four different ages a man experiences as he
goes about the stages of life. The four ages are “Childhood”, “Youth”, “Middle Age”, and “Old
Age”. The five poems by William Butler Yeats, which was used to discover his beliefs
concerning youth and old age include: “The New Faces (1928)”, “The Old Men Admiring
Themselves in the Water (1903)”, “Quarrel in Old Age (1932)”, “The Song of the Old Mother
(1894)”, and “Two Years Later (1914)”. These poems explore different aspects of life as a
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person is young and as a person is old and soon to die. Yeats, unlike Bradstreet, only discusses
two major age groups in the stages of one’s life—youth and old age. There seems to be no in
between for Yeats, and he expresses this strongly.
To begin with the contrasts between Bradstreet’s poem and Yeats’ poems, there is the
distinction in ages in which the poets were when they wrote these select poems. Bradstreet, as
already stated above, was about thirty years old when she wrote, “The Four Ages of Man”. Yeats
on the other hand, ranged from 29 to 67 years old in the five poems listed above. These ages can
easily affect the writing, and indeed, they seem to in Yeats’ poems, but not in Bradstreet’s.
Anne Bradstreet’s poem is separated into an introduction and then into four different
sections on the four ages—Childhood, Youth, Middle Age, and Old Age. Though Bradstreet
wrote while she was thirty—and thus should be classified to be in the “Middle Age” portion of
her life—she does not let this affect her writing. She wrote detailed stanzas for every different
age group and told of the struggles, the pleasures, and everything in between that comes with
being in each of the four age groups. There is not even a hint by Bradstreet that she belongs to a
certain age group, but instead uses first person narration as though she is in each of the different
age groups.
Yeats works in a very separate way in his own poems. For instance, when Yeats wrote
“Quarrel in Old Age”, he was 69 years old and wrote as though he was sure of this age—in a
way that the reader knows he was experienced in what he is saying. A few of the lines used by
Yeats in this poem say, “Where had her sweetness gone? / What fanatics invent / In this blind
bitter town” (1-3). Yeats’ diction of “blind bitter” and “fanatics” suggest that he was not trying to
imagine becoming old or dealing with anger at an old age, but instead suggest that he felt this
anger, these bitter feelings, and he wanted to express them in his poetry. On the other hand, when
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Yeats was 29, he wrote, “The Song of the Old Mother”. Just the title gives the reader the
understanding that Yeats does not yet know what it is like to be old, and must rely on others to
express the feelings the old do. Yeats, obviously, not being an old mother, cannot give his own
experiences, and instead gives the experiences of another. In this case, the experiences of a
mother are used. On lines nine and ten, Yeats told of the mother’s duties, “While I must work
because I am old, / And the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold”. These lines show how Yeats
tried to understand an old mother, and what she must endure in her old age. He explored the idea
of a helpless woman that no longer has another person to help with chores, and how this work
becomes the woman’s life. He also used this poem to establish the idea that those who are old
have to work, instead of those who are young. Yeats used first person narrative as well, but
again, the reader can clearly see that it is not Yeats as the speaker. Yeats and Bradstreet differ
completely when it comes to showing their ages in the poems that they write concerning youth
and old age.
Both poets also differ when it comes to showing their religious beliefs concerning the
young and old ages of life. Bradstreet, being a strict Puritan, relayed her religious beliefs in every
aspect of her poem. For instance, in the Childhood section, she told, “Ah me! conceiv’d in sin,
and born in sorrow” (Bradstreet 61). This quote is the very first line of the section, and already,
Bradstreet is establishing the idea of sin, and how sin is what creates a child, though the child
itself is without sin. In Bradstreet’s Old Age section of her poem, she also uses her religious
beliefs to relay the Puritan belief in a redeemer. This redeemer, Bradstreet, and Puritans together,
believe to be Jesus Christ, who will save them from their sins. Bradstreet uses her direct belief in
Christ in one quote, “My strong Redeemer coming in the skies. / Triumph I shall, o’re Sin, o’re
Death, o’re Hell, / And in that hope, I bid you all farewell” (442-444). These are the final lines of
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“The Four Ages of Man”, and help to show Bradstreet’s belief in life beyond death, as she tells
of how she will triumph over death even as she is saying goodbye.
Yeats simply does not incorporate his religious views into his poems. His lack of religion
is actually shown in the way that he avoids mentioning death in his poetry. He mentions that,
“…the old, old men say, / ‘All that’s beautiful drifts away / Like the waters’” (Yeats 7-9) in his
poem, “The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water”. Here, the reader can see how Yeats
hints that there will be death for everyone, but he does not affirm it directly. He uses the idea of
water, producing the image of evaporation, which causes water to simply drift away in a
nonphysical way and state. Yeats is much more subtle in this way, and hints toward ideas more,
rather than stating what he intends to say, like how Bradstreet writes.
Both Yeats and Bradstreet are very dissimilar in their poetry styles and the way they
portray their beliefs into their poetry. Yeats is very discreet and does not give away what he
intends to say immediately (if at all). Bradstreet is much more blunt and to the point. Yeats also
does not mention death in the way Bradstreet does. Instead of saying that every person dies, he
seems to wander around the idea of death without stating the actual word, “death”. Bradstreet
mentions death and how she will overcome fatality, thus showing her religious attitude that she
plans on ending life with. There are, finally, contrasts in both of the poets’ ages as they write
about the different ages of one’s life. Bradstreet is subtle in this way as she does not give away
her own age as she describes every age. Yeats does not state his age either, but he does hint at it
by showing his own experiences and showing the experiences of another (such as the lifestyle of
the old mother), as his own age progresses. Altogether, both Anne Bradstreet and William Butler
Yeats are very different as they successful portray youth and age according to their own beliefs.
Though these contrasts are striking, the way the two poets portray ages a person travels through,
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is very similar. Bradstreet and Yeats both use similar motifs and themes to help establish the
overall concept of youth and age.
Both Bradstreet and Yeats use motifs to create their ideas and opinions about the different
stages of life a person goes through—from youth all the way to old age. A common motif that is
used in both Bradstreet’s and Yeats’ works is the idea of being a dreamer, or being ignorant in
correlation to youth and the young. In Bradstreet’s, “The Four Ages of Man”, she states, “Yet
this advantage had mine ignorance, / Freedom from Envy and from Arrogance” (87-88). She tells
that when a person is in the “Childhood” stage of life, this person is ignorant and does not feel
complex emotions which come to a person that is no longer naive. She uses this idea of
ignorance to help build up to the different ages that come next—youth, middle age, and finally
old age. By the time one is old, Bradstreet believes that this naivety is not present in one’s life
and there is no ignorance left. Yeats writes in the same way in his poem, “The Song of the Old
Mother”. In this poem, he states, “And the young lie long and dream in their bed” (Yeats 5).
Yeats here is hinting that the young do not work, that they are dreamers, and that the work is for
those who are old and have no longer any feelings of youth in their lives. He hints at the young
being the ignorant ones that sleep their lives away, only to have things done for them by the old.
Yeats also uses this idea in, “The New Faces”. He states, “Let the new faces play what tricks
they will…/The living seem more shadowy than they” (Yeats 5-6). This idea of trickery shows
Yeats’ belief that the young (new faces) have nothing to worry about in their ignorance, and
entertain themselves with tricks and games because they do not know any better to worry about
the things around them. He also goes on to say that those who are living—truly living, and
without ignorance in this case—are the ones that cast a shadow, the ones that leave a mark upon
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the world in their knowing ways. Both poets use ignorance as their main focus on the “young”
(in Yeats’ case) and the “childhood” (in Bradstreet’s case).
Both Yeats and Bradstreet also use the idea of spring or of flowers to portray how those
who are old have become changed from their younger years of life. In Yeats’ poem, “Quarrel in
Old Age”, he states, “Lives that lonely thing / That shone before these eyes / Targeted, trod like
Spring” (14-16). In this poem, Yeats is telling of how old age can be similar to something lively
and bright—spring in this case—that has been trampled upon, and no longer exists. Bradstreet
also uses spring to illustrate how the old has been altered from youthful times. In the introduction
to, “The Four Ages of Man”, she gives a quick run-down of the different ages of a person’s life.
In the introduction to the poem, she states, “Childhood was cloth’d in white, and given to show, /
His spring was intermixed with some snow” (Bradstreet 11-12). Here she is telling that when a
person is in the childhood stage of life, this is the innocent stage, where there is no immediate
mark of sin upon him. Bradstreet goes on to say that spring was intermixed with snow though,
meaning that spring, the fresh time of childhood, after awhile becomes cold and marked by sin.
This sin, Bradstreet is implying, is the snow that covers the innocence of spring. Bradstreet also
uses flowers to show how innocence is corrupted by sin by the time old age comes around long
after childhood, “Upon his head a Garland Nature set: / Of Daisy, Primrose, and the Violet. /
Such cold mean flowers…” (13-15). Bradstreet once more uses the word “cold”, just as she used
the word “snow” to express how childhood slips away. She uses, “cold, mean flowers” to
illustrate how old age can change a person to be less beautiful and innocent, inside and outside.
Bradstreet does indeed use the idea of flowers though, which indicates the idea of spring, which
has been negatively influenced to become covered in sin as well. Bradstreet and Yeats easily
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show how youthfulness slips into old age, and how the passage of time becomes changed—all of
a sudden, it is no longer spring.
Another common idea that both shares is that old age is a time of ailments and also a time
of reliving what was done in youth. Yeats tells of how the old like to remember what they did
and how they acted in their younger years, “‘All that’s beautiful drifts away…’” (8). This quote
was used above as well, but tells of how the old remember those beautiful things that are no
longer present in old age as death nears. Yeats could easily be referring to a past experience in
his own life, or simply his belief that everyone old remembers a beautiful time in the past that
will never be experienced again. In the same poem (“The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the
Water”), another quote tells of the ailments felt by the old, “They had hands like claws, and their
knees / Were twisted like the old thorn-trees” (Yeats 4-5). The physical appearance of the old
becomes more one with the earth and how the earth looks and is portrayed. Yeats uses a simile
here (“twisted like the old thorn-trees”) to imply that the old become almost as old as the earth as
their appearances begin to change. Again, this shows a change, not internally this time, but
externally—a change that can be seen by all.
Bradstreet shows old age in a similar way to how Yeats portrays it. She tells of how the
old like to remember their past, and relive it again and again, “We old men love to tell, what’s
done in youth” (Bradstreet 402). Bradstreet here gives helps produce an image of an older person
reliving his past in a story form, trying to remember every detail as best he can. Perhaps
Bradstreet wanted to give the idea of a grandfather telling his grandkids the adventures he had in
his life. She also mentions the health issues attributed to old age, “My comely legs, as nimble as
the Roe, / Now stiff and numb, can hardly creep or go” (Bradstreet 415-416). This is extremely
similar to Yeats’ simile of those of old age being gnarled like a tree. Bradstreet too uses a simile,
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but tells that the narrator was once as flexible as a deer (when she was younger) but now that he
is old, is no longer anywhere near as nimble as he once was. Bradstreet even goes beyond to tell
of how the old feel in their age, “My heart sometimes as fierce, as Lion bold, / Now trembling,
and fearful, sad, and cold” (417-418). She tells of the internal feelings of a person of old age—
the negative feelings that come with the negative appearances. Another simile is used to tell of
how in young age, this man was full of bold, brave feelings, but now that he is old, is full of
sadness and fear. Both Bradstreet and Yeats show how old age is a time of remembrance and a
time of health problems and falling spirits.
Anne Bradstreet and William Butler Yeats have several conflicting and several
similar beliefs and ideas when it comes to youth and age. Bradstreet uses four different stages in
a person’s life to show what she believes a person is like in every aspect of their age as they
become nearer and nearer to death. Yeats on the other hand, jumps to different conclusions in
different poems about the “young” and the “old”. Some of the contrasts between the two poets
may simply be because the two are opposite genders and have opinions that relate to how they
believe their own gender sees youth and old age. The two are different as well where their own
age is concerned. Bradstreet does not make clear her own age by use of her poetry, while Yeats
makes it clear what his age is as he writes his poems, without stating it directly. Both have
differing backgrounds as well, with separate religious beliefs and contrasting family structures.
The similarities between the two lie within their works as they talk broadly—or specifically—
about youth and age through their use of motifs. There were other ideas by both that were similar
as well. For example, both believed that when one is at the old age stage of life, one looks at
youth and the accomplishments made then, while currently struggling with various ailments of
the body and soul. Even though Bradstreet and Yeats are different in various ways, they
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ultimately believe several of the same ideas, and share numerous beliefs when it comes to the
topic of youth and age in selected poems by each.
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Deluxe
Poems by William Butler Yeats and Anne Bradstreet Used in Essay
The New Faces
By: William Butler Yeats
IF you, that have grown old, were the first dead,
Neither catalpa tree nor scented lime
Should hear my living feet, nor would I tread
Where we wrought that shall break the teeth of Time.
Let the new faces play what tricks they will
In the old rooms; night can outbalance day,
Our shadows rove the garden gravel still,
The living seem more shadowy than they.
Quarrel in Old Age
By: William Butler Yeats
WHERE had her sweetness gone?
What fanatics invent
In this blind bitter town,
Fantasy or incident
Not worth thinking of,
put her in a rage.
I had forgiven enough
That had forgiven old age.
All lives that has lived;
So much is certain;
Old sages were not deceived:
Somewhere beyond the curtain
Of distorting days
Lives that lonely thing
That shone before these eyes
Targeted, trod like Spring.
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The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water
By: William Butler Yeats
I HEARD the old, old men say,
'Everything alters,
And one by one we drop away.'
They had hands like claws, and their knees
Were twisted like the old thorn-trees
By the waters.
I heard the old, old men say,
'All that's beautiful drifts away
Like the waters.'
The Song of the Old Mother
By: William Butler Yeats
I RISE in the dawn, and I kneel and blow
Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow;
And then I must scrub and bake and sweep
Till stars are beginning to blink and peep;
And the young lie long and dream in their bed
Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head,
And their ~y goes over in idleness,
And they sigh if the wind but lift a tress:
While I must work because I am old,
And the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold.
Two Years Later
By: William Butler Yeats
HAS no one said those daring
Kind eyes should be more learn'd?
Or warned you how despairing
The moths are when they are burned?
I could have warned you; but you are young,
So we speak a different tongue.
O you will take whatever's offered
And dream that all the world's a friend,
Suffer as your mother suffered,
Be as broken in the end.
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But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.
The Four Ages of Man
By: Anne Bradstreet
[Introduction]
Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
Unstable, supple, moist, and cold’s his Nature.
The second: frolic claims his pedigree;
From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
The third of fire and choler is compos’d,
Vindicative, and quarrelsome dispos’d.
The last, of earth and heavy melancholy,
Solid, hating all lightness, and all folly.
Childhood was cloth’d in white, and given to show,
His spring was intermixed with some snow.
Upon his head a Garland Nature set:
Of Daisy, Primrose, and the Violet.
Such cold mean flowers (as these) blossom betime,
Before the Sun hath throughly warm’d the clime.
His hobby striding, did not ride, but run,
And in his hand an hour-glass new begun,
In dangers every moment of a fall,
And when ‘tis broke, then ends his life and all.
But if he held till it have run its last,
Then may he live till threescore years or past.
Next, youth came up in gorgeous attire
(As that fond age, doth most of all desire),
His Suit of Crimson, and his Scarf of Green.
In’s countenance, his pride quickly was seen.
Garland of Roses, Pinks, and Gillyflowers
Seemed to grow on’s head (bedew’d with showers).
His face as fresh, as is Aurora fair,
When blushing first, she ‘gins to red the Air.
No wooden horse, but one of metal try’d:
He seems to fly, or swim, and not to ride.
Then prancing on the Stage, about he wheels;
But as he went, death waited at his heels.
The next came up, in a more graver sort,
As one that cared for a good report.
His Sword by’s side, and choler in his eyes,
But neither us’d (as yet) for he was wise,
Of Autumn fruits a basket on his arm,
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His golden rod in’s purse, which was his charm.
And last of all, to act upon this Stage,
Leaning upon his staff, comes up old age.
Under his arm a Sheaf of wheat he bore,
A Harvest of the best: what needs he more?
In’s other hand a glass, ev’n almost run,
This writ about: This out, then I am done.
His hoary hairs and grave aspect made way,
And all gave ear to what he had to say.
These being met, each in his equipage
Intend to speak, according to their age,
But wise Old-age did with all gravity
To childish childhood give precedency,
And to the rest, his reason mildly told:
That he was young, before he grew so old.
To do as he, the rest full soon assents,
Their method was that of the Elements,
That each should tell what of himself he knew,
Both good and bad, but yet no more then’s true.
With heed now stood, three ages of frail man,
To hear the child, who crying, thus began.
Childhood
Ah me! conceiv’d in sin, and born in sorrow,
A nothing, here to day, but gone to morrow,
Whose mean beginning, blushing can’t reveal,
But night and darkness must with shame conceal.
My mother’s breeding sickness, I will spare,
Her nine months’ weary burden not declare.
To shew her bearing pangs, I should do wrong,
To tell that pain, which can’t be told by tongue.
With tears into this world I did arrive;
My mother still did waste, as I did thrive,
Who yet with love and all alacity,
Spending was willing to be spent for me.
With wayward cries, I did disturb her rest,
Who sought still to appease me with her breast;
With weary arms, she danc’d, and By, By, sung,
When wretched I (ungrate) had done the wrong.
When Infancy was past, my Childishness
Did act all folly that it could express.
My silliness did only take delight,
In that which riper age did scorn and slight,
In Rattles, Bables, and such toyish stuff.
My then ambitious thoughts were low enough.
My high-born soul so straitly was confin’d
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That its own worth it did not know nor mind.
This little house of flesh did spacious count,
Through ignorance, all troubles did surmount,
Yet this advantage had mine ignorance,
Freedom from Envy and from Arrogance.
How to be rich, or great, I did not cark,
A Baron or a Duke ne’r made my mark,
Nor studious was, Kings favours how to buy,
With costly presents, or base flattery;
No office coveted, wherein I might
Make strong my self and turn aside weak right.
No malice bare to this or that great Peer,
Nor unto buzzing whisperers gave ear.
I gave no hand, nor vote, for death, of life.
I’d nought to do, ‘twixt Prince, and peoples’ strife.
No Statist I: nor Marti’list i’ th’ field.
Where e’re I went, mine innocence was shield.
My quarrels, not for Diadems, did rise,
But for an Apple, Plumb, or some such prize.
My strokes did cause no death, nor wounds, nor scars.
My little wrath did cease soon as my wars.
My duel was no challenge, nor did seek.
My foe should weltering, with his bowels reek.
I had no Suits at law, neighbours to vex,
Nor evidence for land did me perplex.
I fear’d no storms, nor all the winds that blows.
I had no ships at Sea, no fraughts to loose.
I fear’d no drought, nor wet; I had no crop,
Nor yet on future things did place my hope.
This was mine innocence, but oh the seeds
Lay raked up of all the cursed weeds,
Which sprouted forth in my insuing age,
As he can tell, that next comes on the stage.
But yet me let me relate, before I go,
The sins and dangers I am subject to:
From birth stained, with Adam’s sinful fact,
From thence I ‘gan to sin, as soon as act;
A perverse will, a love to what’s forbid;
A serpent’s sting in pleasing face lay hid;
A lying tongue as soon as it could speak
And fifth Commandment do daily break;
Oft stubborn, peevish, sullen, pout, and cry;
Then nought can please, and yet I know not why.
As many was my sins, so dangers too,
For sin brings sorrow, sickness, death, and woe,
And though I miss the tossings of the mind,
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Yet griefs in my frail flesh I still do find.
What gripes of wind, mine infancy did pain?
What tortures I, in breeding teeth sustain?
What crudities my cold stomach hath bred?
Whence vomits, worms, and flux have issued?
What breaches, knocks, and falls I daily have?
And some perhaps, I carry to my grave.
Sometimes in fire, sometimes in water fall:
Strangely preserv’d, yet mind it not at all.
At home, abroad, my danger’s manifold
That wonder ‘tis, my glass till now doth hold.
I’ve done: unto my elders I give way,
For ‘tis but little that a child can say.
Youth
My goodly clothing and beauteous skin
Declare some greater riches are within,
But what is best I‘ll first present to view,
And then the worst, in a more ugly hue,
For thus to do we on this Stage assemble,
Then let not him, which hath most craft dissemble.
Mine education, and my learning‘s such,
As might my self, and others, profit much:
With nurture trained up in virtue‘s Schools;
Of Science, Arts, and Tongues, I know the rules;
The manners of the Court, I likewise know,
Nor ignorant what they in Country do.
The brave attempts of valiant Knights I prize
That dare climb Battlements, rear‘d to the skies.
The snorting Horse, the Trumpet, Drum I like,
The glist‘ring Sword, and well advanced Pike.
I cannot lie in trench before a Town,
Nor wait til good advice our hopes do crown.
I scorn the heavy Corslet, Musket-proof;
I fly to catch the Bullet that‘s aloof.
Though thus in field, at home, to all most kind,
So affable that I do suit each mind,
I can insinuate into the breast
And by my mirth can raise the heart deprest.
Sweet Music rapteth my harmonious Soul,
And elevates my thoughts above the Pole.
My wit, my bounty, and my courtesy
Makes all to place their future hopes on me.
This is my best, but youth (is known) alas,
To be as wild as is the snuffing Ass,
As vain as froth, as vanity can be,
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That who would see vain man may look on me:
My gifts abus‘d, my education lost,
My woful Parents‘ longing hopes all crost;
My wit evaporates in merriment;
My valour in some beastly quarrel‘s spent;
Martial deeds I love not, ‘cause they’re virtuous,
But doing so, might seem magnanimous.
My Lust doth hurry me to all that’s ill,
I know no Law, nor reason, but my will;
Sometimes lay wait to take a wealthy purse
Or stab the man in’s own defence, that’s worse.
Sometimes I cheat (unkind) a female Heir
Of all at once, who not so wise, as fair,
Trusteth my loving looks and glozing tongue
Until her friends, treasure, and honour’s gone.
Sometimes I sit carousing others’ health
Until mine own be gone, my wit, and wealth.
From pipe to pot, from pot to words and blows,
For he that loveth Wine wanteth no woes.
Days, nights, with Ruffins, Roarers, Fiddlers spend,
To all obscenity my ears I bend,
All counsel hate which tends to make me wise,
And dearest friends count for mine enemies.
If any care I take, ‘tis to be fine,
For sure my suit more than my virtues shine.
If any time from company I spare,
‘Tis spent in curling, frisling up my hair,
Some young Adonais I do strive to be.
Sardana Pallas now survives in me.
Cards, Dice, and Oaths, concomitant, I love;
To Masques, to Plays, to Taverns still I move;
And in a word, if what I am you’d hear,
Seek out a British, bruitish Cavalier.
Such wretch, such monster am I; but yet more
I want a heart all this for to deplore.
Thus, thus alas! I have mispent my time,
My youth, my best, my strength, my bud, and prime,
Remembring not the dreadful day of Doom,
Nor yet the heavy reckoning for to come,
Though dangers do attend me every hour
And ghastly death oft threats me with her power:
Sometimes by wounds in idle combats taken,
Sometimes by Agues all my body shaken;
Sometimes by Fevers, all my moisture drinking,
My heart lies frying, and my eyes are sinking.
Sometimes the Cough, Stitch, painful Pleurisy,
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With sad affrights of death, do menace me.
Sometimes the loathsome Pox my face be-mars
With ugly marks of his eternal scars.
Sometimes the Frenzy strangely mads my Brain
That oft for it in Bedlam I remain.
Too many’s my Diseases to recite,
That wonder ‘tis I yet behold the light,
That yet my bed in darkness is not made,
And I in black oblivion’s den long laid.
Of Marrow full my bones, of Milk my breasts,
Ceas’d by the gripes of Serjeant Death's Arrests:
Thus I have said, and what I’ve said you see,
Childhood and youth is vain, yea vanity.
Middle Age
Childhood and youth forgot, sometimes I’ve seen,
And now am grown more staid that have been green,
What they have done, the same was done by me:
As was their praise, or shame, so mine must be.
Now age is more, more good ye do expect;
But more my age, the more is my defect.
But what’s of worth, your eyes shall first behold,
And then a world of dross among my gold.
When my Wild Oats were sown, and ripe, and mown,
I then receiv’d a harvest of mine own.
My reason, then bad judge, how little hope
Such empty seed should yield a better crop.
I then with both hands graspt the world together,
Thus out of one extreme into another,
But yet laid hold on virtue seemingly:
Who climbs without hold, climbs dangerously.
Be my condition mean, I then take pains
My family to keep, but not for gains.
If rich, I’m urged then to gather more
To bear me out i’ th’ world and feed the poor;
If a father, then for children must provide,
But if none, then for kindred near ally’d;
If Noble, then mine honour to maintain;
If not, yet wealth, Nobility can gain.
For time, for place, likewise for each relation,
I wanted not my ready allegation.
Yet all my powers for self-ends are not spent,
For hundreds bless me for my bounty sent,
Whose loins I’ve cloth’d, and bellies I have fed,
With mine own fleece, and with my household bread.
Yea, justice I have done, was I in place,
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To cheer the good and wicked to deface.
The proud I crush’d, th’oppressed I set free,
The liars curb’d but nourisht verity.
Was I a pastor, I my flock did feed
And gently lead the lambs, as they had need.
A Captain I, with skill I train’d my band
And shew’d them how in face of foes to stand.
If a Soldier, with speed I did obey
As readily as could my Leader say.
Was I a laborer, I wrought all day
As cheerfully as ere I took my pay.
Thus hath mine age (in all) sometimes done well;
Sometimes mine age (in all) been worse than hell.
In meanness, greatness, riches, poverty
Did toil, did broil; oppress’d, did steal and lie.
Was I as poor as poverty could be,
Then baseness was companion unto me.
Such scum as Hedges and High-ways do yield,
As neither sow, nor reap, nor plant, nor build.
If to Agriculture I was ordain’d,
Great labours, sorrows, crosses I sustain’d.
The early Cock did summon, but in vain,
My wakeful thoughts up to my painful gain.
For restless day and night, I’m robb’d of sleep
By cankered care, who sentinel doth keep.
My weary breast rest from his toil can find,
But if I rest, the more distrest my mind.
If happiness my sordidness hath found,
‘Twas in the crop of my manured ground:
My fatted Ox, and my exuberous Cow,
My fleeced Ewe, and ever farrowing Sow.
To greater things I never did aspire,
My dunghill thoughts or hopes could reach no higher.
If to be rich, or great, it was my fate.
How was I broil’d with envy, and with hate?
Greater than was the great’st was my desire,
And greater still, did set my heart on fire.
If honour was the point to which I steer’d,
To run my hull upon disgrace I fear’d,
But by ambitious sails I was so carried
That over flats, and sands, and rocks I hurried,
Opprest, and sunk, and sack’d, all in my way
That did oppose me to my longed bay.
My thirst was higher than Nobility
And oft long’d sore to taste on Royalty,
Whence poison, Pistols, and dread instruments
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Have been curst furtherers of mine intents.
Nor Brothers, Nephews, Sons, nor Sires I’ve spar’d.
When to a Monarchy my way they barr'’d,
There set, I rid my self straight out of hand
Of such as might my son, or his withstand,
Then heapt up gold and riches as the clay,
Which others scatter like the dew in May.
Sometimes vain-glory is the only bait
Whereby my empty school is lur’d and caught.
Be I of worth, of learning, or of parts,
I judge I should have room in all men’s hearts;
And envy gnaws if any do surmount.
I hate for to be had in small account.
If Bias like, I’m stript unto my skin;
I glory in my wealth I have within.
Thus good, and bad, and what I am, you see,
Now in a word, what my diseases be:
The vexing Stone, in bladder and in reins,
Torments me with intolerable pains;
The windy cholic oft my bowels rend,
To break the darksome prison, where it’s penn’d;
The knotty Gout doth sadly torture me,
And the restraining lame Sciatica;
The Quinsy and the Fevers often distaste me,
And the Consumption to the bones doth waste me,
Subject to all Diseases, that’s the truth,
Though some more incident to age, or youth;
And to conclude, I may not tedious be,
Man at his best estate is vanity.
Old Age
What you have been, ev’n such have I before,
And all you say, say I, and something more.
Babe's innocence, Youth’s wildness I have seen,
And in perplexed Middle-age have been,
Sickness, dangers, and anxieties have past,
And on this Stage am come to act my last.
I have been young, and strong, and wise as you
But now, Bis pueri senes is too true.
In every Age I’ve found much vanity.
An end of all perfection now I see.
It’s not my valour, honour, nor my gold,
My ruin’d house, now falling can uphold;
It’s not my Learning, Rhetoric, wit so large,
Now hath the power, Death’s Warfare, to discharge.
It’s not my goodly house, nor bed of down,
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That can refresh, or ease, if Conscience frown;
Nor from alliance now can I have hope,
But what I have done well, that is my prop.
He that in youth is godly, wise, and sage
Provides a staff for to support his age.
Great mutations, some joyful, and some sad,
In this short Pilgrimage I oft have had.
Sometimes the Heavens with plenty smil’d on me,
Sometimes, again, rain’d all adversity;
Sometimes in honour, sometimes in disgrace,
Sometime an abject, then again in place:
Such private changes oft mine eyes have seen.
In various times of state I’ve also been.
I’ve seen a Kingdom flourish like a tree
When it was rul’d by that Celestial she,
And like a Cedar others so surmount
That but for shrubs they did themselves account.
Then saw I France, and Holland sav’d, Calais won,
And Philip and Albertus half undone.
I saw all peace at home, terror to foes,
But ah, I saw at last those eyes to close,
And then, me thought, the world at noon grew dark
When it had lost that radiant Sun-like spark.
In midst of griefs, I saw some hopes revive
(For ‘twas our hopes then kept our hearts alive);
I saw hopes dash’t, our forwardness was shent,
And silenc’d we, by Act of Parliament.
I’ve seen from Rome, an execrable thing,
A plot to blow up Nobles and their King.
I’ve seen designs at Ree and Cades cross’t,
And poor Palatinate for every lost.
I’ve seen a Prince to live on others’ lands,
A Royal one, by alms from Subjects’ hands.
I’ve seen base men, advanc’d to great degree,
And worthy ones, put to extremity,
But not their Prince’s love, nor state so high,
Could once reverse, their shameful destiny.
I’ve seen one stabb’d, another lose his head,
And others fly their Country through their dread.
I’ve seen, and so have ye, for ‘tis but late,
The desolation of a goodly State.
Plotted and acted so that none can tell
Who gave the counsell, but the Prince of hell.
I’ve seen a land unmoulded with great pain,
But yet may live to see’t made up again.
I’ve seen it shaken, rent, and soak’d in blood,
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But out of troubles ye may see much good.
These are no old wives’ tales, but this is truth.
We old men love to tell, what’s done in youth.
But I return from whence I stept awry;
My memory is short and brain is dry.
My Almond-tree (gray hairs) doth flourish now,
And back, once straight, begins apace to bow.
My grinders now are few, my sight doth fail,
My skin is wrinkled, and my cheeks are pale.
No more rejoice, at music’s pleasant noise,
But do awake at the cock’s clanging voice.
I cannot scent savours of pleasant meat,
Nor sapors find in what I drink or eat.
My hands and arms, once strong, have lost their might.
I cannot labour, nor I cannot fight:
My comely legs, as nimble as the Roe,
Now stiff and numb, can hardly creep or go.
My heart sometimes as fierce, as Lion bold,
Now trembling, and fearful, sad, and cold.
My golden Bowl and silver Cord, e’re long,
Shall both be broke, by wracking death so strong.
I then shall go whence I shall come no more.
Sons, Nephews, leave, my death for to deplore.
In pleasures, and in labours, I have found
That earth can give no consolation sound
To great, to rich, to poor, to young, or old,
To mean, to noble, fearful, or to bold.
From King to beggar, all degrees shall find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
Yea, knowing much, the pleasant’st life of all
Hath yet amongst that sweet, some bitter gall.
Though reading others’ Works doth much refresh,
Yet studying much brings weariness to th’ flesh.
My studies, labours, readings all are done,
And my last period can e’en elmost run.
Corruption, my Father, I do call,
Mother, and sisters both; the worms that crawl
In my dark house, such kindred I have store.
There I shall rest till heavens shall be no more;
And when this flesh shall rot and be consum’d,
This body, by this soul, shall be assum’d;
And I shall see with these same very eyes
My strong Redeemer coming in the skies.
Triumph I shall, o’re Sin, o’re Death, o’re Hell,
And in that hope, I bid you all farewell.
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