He cometh forth like a flower Tender and delicate, fair and beautiful, his faculties and members opening and expanding themselves by degrees; and is cut down By the scythe of some spreading malady; or cropped by the rude hand of some ruthless distemper; or nipped and withered by the frost of some wasting weakness and decay. He fleeth also as a shadow Which, being caused by the sun, follows its motions, and is in perpetual variation, until, at last, it quite vanishes and disappears. “The flower,” says Henry, “is fading, and all its beauty soon withers and is gone. The shadow is fleeting, and its very being will soon be lost in the shadows of night. Of neither do we make any account, in neither do we put any confidence.”

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