Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/232

 'O well is thee, though the weird be strange That bids thee flit and flee; For hope is child of the womb of change, And hope keeps watch with thee.

'When the years are gone, and the time is come, God's grace may give thee grace; And thy soul may sing, though thy soul were dumb, And shine before God's face.

'But I, that lighten and revel and roll With the foam of the plunging sea, No sign is mine of a breathing soul That God should pity me.

'Nor death, nor heaven, nor hell, nor birth Hath part in me nor mine: Strong lords are these of the living earth And loveless lords of thine.