Songs

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!