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Henry Howard - The Frailty And Hurtfulness Of Beauty
Work rating: Low

Brittle beauty, that nature made so frail,
     Whereof the gift is small, and short the season;
     Flow`ring today, tomorrow apt to fail,
     Tickle treasure, abhorrèd of reason;
     Dangerous to deal with, vain, of none avail,
     Costly in keeping, past not worth two peason;
     Slipper in sliding, as is an eelës tail,
     Hard to obtain, once gotten, not geason;
     Jewel of jeopardy that peril doth assail,
   False and untrue, enticèd oft to treason,
   Enemy to youth; that most may I bewail.
   Ah, bitter sweet, infecting as the poison,
       Thou farest as fruit that with the frost is taken,
       Today ready ripe, tomorrow all to-shaken.
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