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; 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 ope 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!