University of Virginia Library


45

The eight muse.

1

Tell me my soule vvas thou not loth
At first to ioyne vvith me?
Why novve art loth to part vvith that,
Which much vvoe letts thee see.

2

Dost thou not heare the vvise to say,
The day of death is cheefe;
And is more good then day of birth
Which brings thee vvoe, & greefe,

3

Dost not thou trust the vvise mans vvords
On throne in state in glee,
That thus did say of death, & birth
Then harke thou once to me.

4

The lord of life that knevve deaths force
Doth say that they are blest
That die in god, our lord, our Christ
And from their vvoes haue rest.

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5

O death hovve svveete is that thy rest
To vvights in vale of teares
Hovve svveete is thy grim face to those
That liue in vvoe, & feares?

6

O soule vvhat man is so fell mad,
And so in soule cast dovvne?
To hide himselfe in base things here
To loose by them a crovvne

7

My soule then see, & say in fine
With men of gods ovvne lore.
For me to die it is more good
Then liue on this ville shore.

8. Thought.

O my soule if by one mans sinne death did raigne by one, much more they vvhich haue much grace, & the gift of faith shall raigne in life by one Christ my lord and god. Rom. 5. 17.