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A Litany in Time of Plague
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9.8
/10
(4
votes)
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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; 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. 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 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. Lord, have mercy on us!
Strength stoops unto the grave, Worms feed on Hector brave; Swords may not fight with fate, Earth still holds open her gate. "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; 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!
Haste, therefore, each degree, To welcome destiny; Heaven is our heritage, Earth but a player's stage; Mount we unto the sky. I am sick, I must die. Lord, have mercy on us!
Thomas Nashe
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Read poems about / on: sick, farewell, destiny, trust, flower, strength, fate, death, beauty, heaven, sky, time, world
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