His scalp all pilled, and he with eld forlore;
His withered fist still knocking at Death's door;
Fumbling and drivelling as he draws his breath:
For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.
And fast by him pale Malady was placed,
Sore sick in bed, her colour all forgone,
Bereft of stomach, savour, and of taste,
Ne could she brook no meat but broths alone;
Her breath corrupt, her keepers every one
Abhorring her, her sickness past recure,
Detesting physic and all physic's cure.
But oh the doleful sight that then we see!
We turned our look, and on the other side
A griesly shape of Famine mought we see,
With greedy looks, and gaping mouth that cried
And roared for meat, as she should there have died;
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Whereto was left naught but the case alone.
And that, alas! was gnawen on everywhere,
All full of holes, that I ne mought refrain
From tears to see how she her arms could tear,
And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain;
When all for naught she fain would so sustain
Her starven corpse, that rather seemed a shade
Than any substance of a creature made.
Great was her force, whom stone wall could not stay,
Her tearing nails snatching at all she saw;
With gaping jaws, that by no means y-may
Be satisfied from hunger of her maw,
But eats herself, as she that hath no law;
Gnawing, alas! her carcass all in vain,
Where you may count each sinew, bone, and vein.
On her while we thus firmly fixed our eyes,
That bled for ruth of such a dreary sight,
Lo, suddenly she shryght in so huge wise
As made hell-gates to shiver with the might:
Wherewith a dart we saw, how it did light
Right on her breast, and therewithal pale Death
Enthrilling it, to reave her of her breath.
And by and by a dumb dead corpse we saw,
Heavy and cold, the shape of Death aright,
That daunts all earthly creatures to his law;
Against whose force in vain it is to fight.
Ne peers, ne princes, nor no mortal wight,
No towns, ne realms, cities, ne strongest tower,
But all perforce must yield unto his power.
His dart anon out of the corpse he took,
And in his hand (a dreadful sight to see)
With great triumph eftsoons the same he shook,
That most of all my fears affrayed me.
His body dight with naught but bones, perdie;
The naked shape of man there saw I plain,
All save the flesh, the sinew, and the vein.
Lastly stood War, in glittering arms y-clad,
With visage grim, stern looks, and blackly hued.
In his right hand a naked sword he had,
That to the hilts was all with blood embrued;
And in his left, that kings and kingdoms rued,
Famine and fire he held, and therewithal
He razed towns, and threw down towers and all.
Cities he sacked; and realms, that whilom flowered
In honour, glory, and rule above the best,
He overwhelmed and all their fame devoured,
Consumed, destroyed, wasted, and never ceast,
Till he their wealth, their name, and all opprest:
His face forhewed with wounds, and by his side
There hung his targe with gashes deep and wide.
Thence come we to the horrour and the hell,
The large great kingdoms, and the dreadful reign
Of Pluto in his throne where he did dwell;
The wide waste places, and the hugy plain,
The wailings, shrieks, and sundry sorts of pain,
The sighs, the sobs, the deep and deadly groan,
Earth, air, and all, resounding plaint and moan.
Here puled the babes, and here the maids unwed
With folded hands their sorry chance bewailed;
Here wept the guiltless slain, and lovers dead,
That slew themselves when nothing else availed;
A thousand sorts of sorrows here, that wailed
With sighs, and tears, sobs, shrieks, and all yfere,
That, oh alas! it was a hell to hear.
We stayed us straight, and with a rueful fear
Beheld this heavy sight, while from mine eyes
The vapoured tears downstilled here and there;
And Sorrow eke, in far more woeful wise,
Took on with plaint, upheaving to the skies
Her wretched hands, that, with her cry, the rout
'Gan all in heaps to swarm us round about.
"Lo here," quoth Sorrow, "princes of renown,
That whilom sat on top of Fortune's wheel,
Now laid full low; like wretches whirlèd down,
Even with one frown, that stayed but with a smile.
And now behold the thing that thou, erewhile,
Saw only in thought; and what thou now shalt hear 265
Recount the same to kesar, king, and peer.”
CHORUS-Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
And saith, "Sweetheart, I have take my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Now let them drink till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily trowled,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Let mother Earth now deck herself in flowers,
To see her offspring seek a good increase,
Where justest love doth vanquish Cupid's powers,
And war of thoughts is swallowed up in peace,
Which never may decrease,
But, like the turtles fair,
Live one in two, a well-united pair;
Which that no chance may stain,
O Hymen, long their coupled joys maintain!
O heav'n, awake! show forth thy stately face;
Let not these slumb'ring clouds thy beauties hide,
But with thy cheerful presence help to grace
The honest bridegroom and the bashful bride;
Whose loves may ever bide,
Like to the elm and vine,
With mutual embracements them to twine;
In which delightful pain,
O Hymen, long their coupled joys maintain!
Ye Muses all, which chaste affects allow,
And have to Thyrsis showed your secret skill,
To this chaste love your sacred favours bow,
And so to him and her your gifts distill
That they all vice may kill,
And, like to lilies pure,
May please all eyes, and spotless may endure,
Where that all bliss may reign:
O Hymen, long their coupled joys maintain!
Ye nymphs which in the waters empire have,
Since Thyrsis' music oft doth yield you praise,
Grant to the thing which we for Thyrsis crave:
Let one time—but long first-close up their days,
One grave their bodies seize;
And like two rivers sweet,
When they, though diverse, do together meet,
One stream both streams contain:
O Hymen, long their coupled joys maintain!
Pan, father Pan, the god of silly sheep,
Whose care is cause that they in number grow,
Have much more care of them that them do keep-
Since from these good the others' good doth flow-
And make their issue show
Of younglings which thyself with love hast reared,
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