2. [INCERTI.]
The plenteous evils of frail life fill the old: Their wasted limbs the loose skin in dry folds Doth hang about: their joints are numb'd, and through Their veins, not blood, but rheums and waters flow. Their trembling bodies with a staff they stay, Nor do they breathe, but sadly sigh all day. Thoughts tire their hearts, to them their very mind Is a disease; their eyes no sleep can find.