In Time of Pestilence

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 clos'd Helen's eye:
  I am sick, I must die.
  Lord, have mercy on us!
  Strength stoops unto the grave,
  Worms feed on Hector 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!