Жизнь Фрэнсиса Бэкона
Фрэнсис Бэкон FRANCIS BACON Жизнь Life (Жизнь человека Life of man) The world’s a bubble; and the life of man less than a span. In his conception wretched; from the womb so to the tomb: Curst from the cradle, and brought up to years, with cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, But limns the water, or but writes in dust. Yet, since with sorrow here we live oppress’d, what life is best? Courts are but only superficial schools to dandle fools: The rural parts are turn’d into a den of savage men: And where’s a city from all vice so free, But may be term’d the worst of all the three? Domestic cares afflict the husband’s bed, or pains his head: Those that live single, take it for a curse, or do things worse: Some would have children; those that have them none; or wish them gone. What is it then to have no wife, but single thralldom or a double strife? Our own affections still at home to please, is a disease: To cross the sea to any foreign soil, peri