Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
Our Pleasures Are VanitiesXXXI. D. Sand
B
The blossomes from the tree,
The end whereof consumes
And comes to nought, we see.
Ere thou therefore be blowen
From life that may not last,
Begin for grace to call
For time mispent and past.
Whose pleasures are but vayne;
On death likewyse bethinke,
How thou maiest not remaine.
And feare thy Lord to greeue,
Which sought thy soule to saue;
To synne no more be bent,
But mercie aske and haue.
The kinges on earth to kill,
Shall reape also from thee
Thy pleasure, life, and will.
That lyfe which yet remaynes,
And in thy brest appeares,
Hath sowne in thee sutch seedes,
You ought to weede with teares.
When death is worne and past,
Shall spring for euer then
In ioy or paine to last.
Where death on life hath power,
Ye see that life also
Hath mowen the fruites of death,
Which neuer more shall growe.