Page:Monk and the miller's wife (1).pdf/12

[12] He gave his hand to his congregation, That death ſhould be their first ſeparation, There's not a man that marries a wife, And taketh another in time of her life: Tho' he be a prince, or ſhe be a queen, That man of adultery cannot be clean. And ye know of adult'rous and covetous men What shall be their portion the apostle doth pen, At the last day, account ſhall be craved, Of every pastor what flock he received: To pay all that is lost, he will ordain, That can ſhew neither ſkin nor birn. I would all great ones would take tent, That all they have in this world's but lent; And he that uses his talent aright, His treasure's better than Caesar's might. The Lord with that man was not content, That gave his talent without anual rent; He was committed to prison, you know; But where ſhall they go, has nothing to ſhow? I wish each Christian would take pain To gain with their talent. Amen, said the Wren.

FOR men, at this time, look ſo to vain glory, That clean out of mind is MEMENTO MORI. I think with death they have made a condition, They are ſo given to this world's poſſeſſion. Altho' for a time death doth ſuſpend them, Yet e'er it be long he will apprehend them; And if they be found without ſeparation, The world will give them but finall consolation. That matchless Monarch, the great Macedon, Who conquered kindoms, many a one, For all the dominions he did rave, The world would hardly grant him a grave!