Part 28 (1/2)

When the artless doctor sees No one hope, but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When his potion and his pill, Has, or none, or little skill, Meet for nothing but to kill, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the pa.s.sing-bell doth toll, And the furies in a shoal Come to fright a parting soul, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue, And the comforters are few, And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the priest his last hath pray'd, And I nod to what is said, 'Cause my speech is now decay'd, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When, G.o.d knows, I'm tost about Either with despair, or doubt; Yet, before the gla.s.s be out, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tempter me pursu'th With the sins of all my youth, And half d.a.m.ns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the flames and h.e.l.lish cries Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes, And all terrors me surprise, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the Judgment is reveal'd, And that open'd which was seal'd; When to Thee I have appeal'd, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

258. TO DEATH

Thou bidst me come away, And I'll no longer stay, Than for to shed some tears For faults of former years; And to repent some crimes Done in the present times; And next, to take a bit Of bread, and wine with it; To don my robes of love, Fit for the place above; To gird my loins about With charity throughout; And so to travel hence With feet of innocence; These done, I'll only cry, 'G.o.d, mercy!' and so die.

259. TO HIS SWEET SAVIOUR

Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep; And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep; Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she Had broke her wheel, or crack'd her axletree.

Just so it is with me, who list'ning, pray The winds to blow the tedious night away, That I might see the cheerful peeping day.