Death's Uncontrollable Summons; OR,
The Mortality of MANKIND.
Being a Dialogue between
DEATH and a
YOUNG-MAN.
To the Tune of,
My Bleeding Heart.
[...]N slumber and Sleep my senses fail'd,
hey ho, hey ho, then slept I;
[...]he bright Sun rais'd a mist withall,
[...] eclipsed in the darksome Sky.
[...]n antient Father stood by me,
hey ho, hey ho, hollow eyes,
[...] foul deformed Wight was he
I thought my youth did him despite.
[...]is Cloak was green his head was gray,
hey ho, hey ho, silver hair,
His Face was pale as any clay
his Countenance made me much to fear.
Amazed at the suddain sight,
hey ho, hey ho, youthful boy;
I stood as one amazed quite,
hey ho, hey ho, dismal day,
Father, quoth I, tell me your name,
hey ho, hy ho, tell me true,
I pray you tell to me the same,
my joynts do tremble at thy view
Young Youth, quoth he, I tell to thee
hey ho, hey ho, thy thred is spun;
My name is Death, I come for thee
hey ho, hey ho, thy Glass is run.
For me sweet Death I hope not so;
hey ho, hey ho, I am young;
Let me be old before I go,
alass! my time hath not been long.
I have this worldly wealth at will,
hey ho, hey ho, ask and have,
Let me enjoy those Pleasures still,
oh my Soul abhors the Grave.
I scorn thy Treasure and thy Pelf,
hey ho, hey ho, haste away,
Thy goods shall perish with thy self,
'tis not thy Wealth, my stroak shall stay.
Oh Death! what will my true Love say?
hey ho, hey ho, shee'l complain
On thee, for taking me away;
sweet Death with her let me remain.
I tell thee yet, thou strivest in vain,
hey ho, hey ho, go 'tis time;
Thy vital thread is cut in twain,
oh hark and hear the dulsome Chyme.
Then woe is me! I must be gone,
hey ho, hey ho, my heart,
My Worlds delight and all is gone,
there was never man so loath to parts.
Mark well my Fall you youthful Buds;
hey ho, hey ho, view my Fall,
My Pleasures, Plenty Life and Goods,
hey ho, hey ho, Death ends all.
Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-corner.