---

Henry Vaughan - The Call
Work rating: Low

1.

COME, my heart ! come, my head, 
           In sighs, and tears ! 
`Tis now, since you have lain thus dead, 
           Some twenty years ; 
           Awake, awake, 
           Some pity take 
           Upon yourselves ! 
Who never wake to groan, nor weep, 
Shall be sentenc`d for their sleep.


2.

Do but see your sad estate, 
           How many sands 
Have left us, while we careless sate 
           With folded hands ; 
           What stock of nights, 
           Of days, and years 
           In silent flights 
           Stole by our ears ; 
How ill have we ourselves bestow`d, 
Whose suns are all set in a cloud !


3.

Yet come, and let`s peruse them all, 
           And as we pass, 
What sins on every minute fall 
           Score on the glass ; 
           Then weigh, and rate 
           Their heavy state, 
                     Until 
        The glass with tears you fill ; 
That done, we shall be safe and good : 
Those beasts were clean that chew`d the cud.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.