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| BEHOLD the blast which blowes | |
| The blossomes from the tree, | |
| The end whereof consumes | |
| And comes to nought, we see. | |
| Ere thou therefore be blowen | 5 |
| From life that may not last, | |
| Begin for grace to call | |
| For time mispent and past. | |
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| Haue mind on brittle life, | |
| Whose pleasures are but vayne; | 10 |
| On death likewyse bethinke, | |
| How thou maiest not remaine. | |
| And feare thy Lord to greeue, | |
| Which sought thy soule to saue; | |
| To synne no more be bent, | 15 |
| But mercie aske and haue. | |
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| For death, who dooth not spare | |
| The kinges on earth to kill, | |
| Shall reape also from thee | |
| Thy pleasure, life, and will. | 20 |
| That lyfe which yet remaynes, | |
| And in thy brest appeares, | |
| Hath sowne in thee sutch seedes, | |
| You ought to weede with teares. | |
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| And life that shall succeede, | 25 |
| When death is worne and past, | |
| Shall spring for euer then | |
| In ioy or paine to last. | |
| Where death on life hath power, | |
| Ye see that life also | 30 |
| Hath mowen the fruites of death, | |
| Which neuer more shall growe. | |
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