Grim Death the end is bringing Of joy to this poor heart in me; Ah sorely doth he grieve it! O Lord my God, I cry to Thee, Receive my soul for pity's sake; My body to the earth and worms I give. My lovely art, my singing, Grows dim within my bosom's shrine; To whom shall I now leave it? Ah God, it will no more be mine! 'Twas Thou didst give it, who dost take. Grant me Thy mercy now while yet I live! Yes, I have done with sweetest song, This is the last, my sad complaint, Death comes and brings a silence long: Then list to me, my fellows all, Women and men alike, I mean, None can say aught 'gainst this, I ween, See that from righteousness ye never fall. |