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Why art thou slow

Language: English

Why art thou slow, thou rest of trouble, Death,
    To stop a wretch's breath,
That calls on thee and offers her sad heart
    A prey unto thy dart?
I am nor young nor fair; be, therefore, bold;
    Sorrow hath made me old,
Deformed, and wrinkled; all that I can crave
    Is quiet in my grave.
Such as live happy, hold long life a jewel,
    But to me thou art cruel
If thou end not my tedious misery,
    And I soon cease to be.
Strike, and strike home, then ; pity unto me,
    In one short hour's delay, is tyranny.


Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Text added to the website: 2008-06-09.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:44
Line count: 14
Word count: 99

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