A Litany in Time of Plague
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!
Strength
stoops
unto
the
grave,
Worms
feed
on
Hector
brave;
Swords
may
not
fight
with
fate,
Earth
still
holds
open
her
gate.
"Come,
come!"
the
bells
do
cry.
I
am
sick,
I
must
die.
Lord,
have
mercy
on
us!