Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Thomas Nashe. 15671601167. In Time of Pestilence 1593
ADIEU, farewell earth’s bliss! | |
This world uncertain is: | |
Fond are life’s lustful joys, | |
Death proves them all but toys. | |
None from his darts can fly; | 5 |
I am sick, I must die— | |
Lord, have mercy on us! | |
Rich men, trust not in wealth, | |
Gold cannot buy you health; | |
Physic himself must fade; | 10 |
All things to end are made; | |
The plague full swift goes by; | |
I am sick, I must die— | |
Lord, have mercy on us! | |
Beauty is but a flower | 15 |
Which wrinkles will devour; | |
Brightness falls from the air; | |
Queens have died young and fair; | |
Dust hath closed Helen’s eye; | |
I am sick, I must die— | 20 |
Lord, have mercy on us! | |
Strength stoops unto the grave, | |
Worms feed on Hector brave; | |
Swords may not fight with fate; | |
Earth still holds ope her gate; | 25 |
Come, come! the bells do cry; | |
I am sick, I must die— | |
Lord, have mercy on us! | |
Wit with his wantonness | |
Tasteth death’s bitterness; | 30 |
Hell’s executioner | |
Hath no ears for to hear | |
What vain art can reply; | |
I am sick, I must die— | |
Lord, have mercy on us! | 35 |
Haste therefore each degree | |
To welcome destiny; | |
Heaven is our heritage, | |
Earth but a player’s stage. | |
Mount we unto the sky; | 40 |
I am sick, I must die— | |
Lord, have mercy on us! |