Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
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On a Death-bed-Repentance. |
 | Prison-Pietie |  |
On a Death-bed-Repentance.
This Speech, though sad, it did a King survive;I now must die, e're I begin to live.
And such is the condition of that man
That dies e're his Repentance is began;
That wants his weapons, can for none implore;
For why? Behold, Death knocketh at his door.
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That trembling lies when Death presents his Dart?
Unhappy certainly must be their Dooms
Have Oyl to seek just when the Bridegroom comes.
Death and the Devil do their Souls pursue,
And they no refuge have to fly unto.
The seven years of Plenty all are gone,
And years of Famine are not thought upon.
Time that is swift hath took his nimble flight;
Travel doth tire, yet we want rest at night:
I'll therefore finish every Work I have,
So shall I go with Peace unto my Grave.
| Prison-Pietie | |