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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Of Flesh. |
 | Prison-Pietie |  |
Of Flesh.
All Flesh is Grass, doth therefore rot.For why?
Can man be born to live, and not
to die?
'Tis happiness to leave this life
and world,
And have our names, where joys are rife,
enroll'd.
The dead ne're fear what Death can do:
his blast
Will come no more; for why? that wo
is past.
Then to the Soul appeareth Love
and Joy:
For God will not his Turtle-Dove
destroy.
Then though a Torch-light here, 'tis better far
To be put out, and after rise a Star.
| Prison-Pietie | |