C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Thomas Nashe (15671601)
Farewell, Earths Bliss
A
This world uncertain is;
Fond are life’s lustful joys,
Death proves them all but toys.
None from its darts can fly:
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
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!…
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!
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!