Poem by Thomas Urquhart

Epigrams. The First Booke. ¹ 8. What man it is, that is truly wealthie

Who measures poverty by Natures rules, 
	And frames his mind to what he hath, is rich; 
For we can never doe, but vexe our soules, 
	So long’s we straine them to a higher pitch: 
And hee, whose heart is discontented, is 
But a poore wretch, though all the world were his.

1. Epigrams. The Second Booke. ¹ 29. A truely liberall man never bestoweth his gifts, in hope of recompence
2. Epigrams. The Second Booke. ¹ 24. No man should glory too much in the flourishing verdure of his Youth
3. Epigrams. The First Booke. ¹ 27. Of Lust, and Anger
4. Epigrams. The Second Booke. ¹ 13. What the subject of your conference ought to be with men of judgment, and account
5. Epigrams. The First Booke. ¹ 33. The onely true progresse to a blessed life

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