Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/61

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When comes the last and dreadful day,

And all our bodies ’neath the sway

Of death must fall; but even then

Death, nought, dear friend, can snatch from men

Except their bodies and recall

To earth their substance corporal.

Death’s iron hand will seize us both

Ere long, however much we’re loth

To meet him.

Rarely doth Death take

Two friends together, yet I make

No question if I first am ta’en,

I still shall in your heart remain

Embalmed; or if ’tis yours to die

Before me, rest assured that I

Shall keep your memory green.

E’en so

The records of past ages show

How bitterly great Theseus grieved

When Peirithous from him was reived

By death, and sought his friend in hell.

But Poverty is far more fell

And cruel than grim Death: to soul

And body both it bringeth dole,

Without the respite of an hour,

And urgeth men to actions dour,

Of murder, theft, and perjury,

And whatso other vice may be

Wherewith man’s race is pesterèd,

While oftentimes doth Death bestead