LXIII. William Drummond

LET vs each day inure ourselues to dye;

If this, and not our feares, be trulie death,

Aboue the circles both of hope and faith,

With faire, immortall pinniones to flie:

If this be death, our best part to vntye,

By running the iaile from lust and wrath,

And everie drowsie languor heere beneath,

Is turning deniz’d citizen of skie,

To haue more knowledge than all books containe,

All pleasures euen surmounting wishing pow’re,

The fellowship of God’s immortall traine,

And these that time nor force shall e’er deuoure:

If this be death, what ioy, what golden care

Of life can with deathe’s ouglinesse compare?