From dead to dead in darkness. Hence; make haste,

Lest war's fleet foot be swifter than thy tongue

And I that part not to return again

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On him that comes not to depart away

Be fallen before thee; for the time is full,

And with such mortal hope as knows not fear

I go this high last way to the end of all.

[Pg 43]

[Pg 43]

CHORUS.

[Str. 1.

Who shall put a bridle in the mourner's lips to chasten them,

Or seal up the fountains of his tears for shame?

Song nor prayer nor prophecy shall slacken tears nor hasten them,

Till grief be within him as a burnt-out flame;

Till the passion be broken in his breast

And the might thereof molten into rest,

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And the rain of eyes that weep be dry,

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