Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.

Bethincking Himselfe of His End, Writeth Thus

XXXII. Lord Vaux

WHEN I behold the baier,

My last and posting horse,

That bare shall to the grave

My vile and carren corse;

Then say I, Seely wretche,

Why doest thou put thy trust

In things eiche made of clay,

That soone will turn to dust?

Doest thou not see the yong,

The hardy and the fayre,

That now are past and gone

As though they never were?

Doest thou not see thyselfe

Draw howerly to thy last,

As shaftes which that is shotte

At byrdes that flieth fast?

Doest thou not see how death

Through smyteth with his launce,

Some by warre, some by plague,

And some by worldly chaunce?

What thing is there on earth,

For pleasure that was made,

But goeth more swift away

Than doth the sommer shade?

Loe here the sommer-flower,

That sprong this other day,

But wynter weareth as fast,

And bloweth cleane away:

Euen so shalt thou consume

From youth to lothsome age;

For death he doth not spare

The prince more than the page.

Thy house shall be of clay,

A clotte under thy head,

Untill the latter day

The grave shall be thy bed;

Untill the blowing tromp

Doth say to all and some,

“Rise up out of your graue,

For now the Judge is come.”