A house of clay for to be made
For such a guest most mete.
Me thinkes I heare the clarke,
That knoles the carefull knell;
And bids me leave my wearye warke,
Ere nature me compell.
My keepers[2] knit the knot,
That youth doth laugh to scorne,
Of me that shall bee cleane forgot,
As I had ne'er bene borne.
Thus must I youth geve up,
Whose badge I long did weare:
To them I yeld the wanton cup,
That better may it beare.
Lo here the bared skull;
By whose balde signe I know,
That stouping age away shall pull
What youthful yeres did sow.
For Beautie with her band,
These croked cares had wrought,
And shipped me into the land,
From whence I first was brought.
And ye that bide behinde,
Have ye none other trust:
As ye of claye were cast by kinde,
So shall ye turne to dust.
NOTES
- Harl. MSS. Num. 1703, § 25. The text is printed from the "Songs, &c. of the Earl
of Surrey and others, 1557, 4to." - Alluding perhaps to Eccles. xii. 3.