41. On the Cackling of a Hen
The hen, so soon as she an egg doth lay, (Spreads the fame of her doing what she may.) About the yard she cackling now doth go, To tell what 'twas she at her nest did do.
Just thus it is with some professing men, If they do ought that good is, like our hen They can but cackle on't where e'er they go, What their right hand doth their left hand must know.
his glass, when made, was, by the workman's skill, The sum of sixty minutes to fulfil. Time, more nor less, by it will out be spun, But just an hour, and then the glass is run.
Man's life we will compare unto this glass, The number of his months he cannot pass; But when he has accomplished his day, He, like a vapour, vanisheth away.