Of The Vanitie Of The World Poem by Humfrey Gifford

As I lay musing in my bed,
A heape of fancies came in head,
Which greatly did molest mee.
Such sundry thoughtes of ioy and paine,
Did meete within my pondring braine,
That nothing could I rest mee.
Sometimes I felt exceeding ioy,
Sometimes the torment of annoy,
Euen now I laugh, euen now I weepe,
Euen now a slumber made mee sleepe.
Thus did I with thoughtes of straunge deuice,
Lye musing alone in pensiue wise:
I knew not what meanes might health procure,
Nor finish the toyle I did indure.
And still I lay, and found no way,
That best could make my cares decay.


Reuoluing these thinges in my minde,
Of wretched world the fancies blinde:
Alone a while I ponder:
Which when I had perused well,
And saw no vertue there to dwell,
It made mee greatly wonder.
Is this that goodly thing (thought I)
That all men loue so earnestly?
Is this the fruit that it doth yeelde,
Whereby wee all are so beguilde?
Ah Iesus, how then my heart did rue,
Because I had folowed them, as true.
Alas wee haue lost the heauenly ioyes,
And haue beene deceaued with worldly toyes;
Whose fancies vaine, will breede vs paine,
If Christ doe not restore againe.


O wretched man, leaue off therefore,
In worldly thinges put trust no more.
Which yeeldes no thing but sorow:
To God thy Lord with speede conuert,
Because thou most vncertain art:
If thou shalt liue too morow,
Leaue of to quaffe, to daunce and play,
Remember still the iudgement day,
Repent, relent, and call for grace,
For pardon aske, whilst thou hast space.


Who doeth from his heart repentaunce craue,
Forgiuenes (saieth Christ) of mee shall haue.
Hee will not the death of a sinner giue:
But rather hee should repent and liue.
Stil laud the Lord, peruse his word,
And let thy deedes with it accord.