Adieu, farewell, earth’s bliss;



This world uncertain is;



Fond are life’s lustful joys;



Death proves them all but toys;



None from his darts can fly;



I am sick, I must die.



Lord, have mercy on us!







Rich men, trust not in wealth,



Gold cannot buy you health;



Physic himself must fade.



All things to end are made,



The plague full swift goes by;



I am sick, I must die.



Lord, have mercy on us!







Beauty is but a flower



Which wrinkles will devour;



Brightness falls from the air;



Queens have died young and fair;



Dust hath closed Helen’s eye.



I am sick, I must die.



Lord, have mercy on us!







Strength stoops unto the grave,



Worms feed on Hector’s brave;



Swords may not fight with fate,



Earth still holds ope her gate.



“Come, come!” the bells do cry.



I am sick, I must die.



Lord, have mercy on us.







Wit with his wantonness



Tasteth death’s bitterness;



Hell’s executioner



Hath no ears for to hear



What vain art can reply.



I am sick, I must die.



Lord, have mercy on us.







Haste, therefore, each degree,



To welcome destiny;



Heaven is our heritage,



Earth but a player’s stage;



Mount we unto the sky.



I am sick, I must die.



Lord, have mercy on us.





