Poems &c. By James Shirley | ||
66
The Passing Bell.
Hark, how chimes the Passing bell,There's no musick to a knell;
All the other sounds we hear,
Flatter, and but cheat our ear.
This doth put us still in mind
That our flesh must be resign'd,
And a general silence made,
The world be muffled in a shade;
He that on his pillow lies
Tear enbalm'd before he dies,
Carries like a sheep his life,
To meet the sacrificers knife,
And for eternity is prest,
Sad Bell-weather to the rest.
Poems &c. By James Shirley | ||