TESTO DEL LIED

"Adieu, farewell earth's blisse"
di Thomas Nashe (1567-1601)

Adieu, farewell earth's blisse, This world uncertain is, Fond are lifes lustfull joyes, Death proves them all but toyes. None from his darts can flye, I am sick I must die--
Lord have mercy on us.
Rich men, trust not in wealth, Gold cannot buy you health; Physic himself must fade. All things to end are made. The plague full swift goes by; I am sick, I must die--
Lord have mercy on us.
Beauty is but a flower, Which wrinkles will devour, Brightness falls from the air, Queens have died young and fair, Dust hath closed Helen's eye. I am sick, I must die--
Lord have mercy on us.
Strength stoopes unto the grave, Worms feed on Hector brave Swords cannot fight with fate Earth still holds ope her gate; Come, come! the bells do cry; I am sick, I must die--
Lord have mercy on us.
Wit with his wantonness Tasteth death's bitterness Hell's executioner Hath no ears for to hear What vain art can reply; I am sick, I must die--
Lord have mercy on us.
Haste therefore each degree, To welcome destiny: Heav'n is our heritage, Earth but a player's stage, Mount we unto the sky. I am sick, I must die--
Lord have mercy on us.