Anima Anceps

TILL death have broken Sweet life’s love-token, Till all be spoken That shall be said, What dost thou praying, O soul, and playing With song and saying, Things flown and fled? For this we know not— That fresh springs flow not And fresh griefs grow not When men are dead; When strange years cover Lover and lover, And joys are over And tears are shed. If one day’s sorrow Mar the day’s morrow— If man’s life borrow And man’s death pay— If souls once taken, If lives once shaken, Arise, awaken, By night, by day— Why with strong crying And years of sighing, Living and dying, Fast ye and pray? For all your weeping, Waking and sleeping, Death comes to reaping And takes away. Though time rend after Roof-tree from rafter, A little laughter Is much more worth Than thus to measure The hour, the treasure, The pain, the pleasure, The death, the birth; Grief, when days alter, Like joy shall falter; Song-book and psalter, Mourning and mirth. Live like the swallow; Seek not to follow Where earth is hollow Under the earth.