Richard Barnfield, The Complete Poems of Richard Barnfield (1876)
“ Assign'd as one to end this doubtfull strife (Touching your forme, your fame, your loue, your life) , Beauty is vaine much like a gloomy light, And wanting wit is counted but a trife, Especially when Honour's put to flight: Thus of a louely, soone becomes a loathly sight. XV. Wit without wealth is bad, yet counted good, Wealth wanting wisdom's worse, yet deem'd as wel, Erom whence (for ay) doth flow, as from a flood, A pleasant Poyson, and a heauenly Hell, Where mortall men do couet still to dwell. ”
