Deaths loud Allarum:
OR,
A perfect description of the frailty of Mans life, with
some admonitions to warne all men and Women
to repentance.
To the tune of, Aime not too high.
|
LAment your sinnes, good people all lament,
|
You plainely see the Messenger is sent,
|
I meane grim death and he doth play his part,
|
He stands prepard to strike you to the heart:
|
How suddenly alas theres none doth know,
|
We all must yeeld to Death this death we owe.
|
Our time is short we have not long to stay,
|
We are not sure to live one night nor day,
|
No, nor one houre or minut which is lesse,
|
As God doth please our time is more or lesse:
|
We are all mortall that live here below,
|
And all must dye, that is the debt we owe.
|
No strength nor valour can this death prevent,
|
Nor can faire beauty hinder his intent,
|
Both rich and poore must all prepare to dye,
|
No King nor Subject can proud death denye:
|
Death feares no friend nor doth he dread a foe,
|
We all must dye that is the debt we owe.
|
Behold and see all you that smile at death,
|
You plainely see how fickle is your breath,
|
To day alive, to morrow clad in clay,
|
Therefore prepare, repent, weep, fast and pray:
|
Our sinnes doe cause the Lord to send us woe,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Thy brothers dead and buryed in the ground,
|
Prepare thy self, the mournfull Bell doth sound,
|
The grave stands open ready to receive,
|
Whom death doth strike, prepare to take thy leave.
|
The day nor houre there is none that doth know,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Then why doe we so vainely spend our time,
|
And unto wickednesse so much incline?
|
We live as though we never meant to die,
|
Spending our dayes most lewd and wantonly:
|
All wickednesse doth daily in us grow,
|
Yet all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
In pride and lust we daily doe abound,
|
What wicked sinnes but in us may be found?
|
Wrath and revenge, with beastly gluttony,
|
With drunkennesse deceit and flattery:
|
All this appeares apparantly in show.
|
Yet all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
The hearts of men are growne as hard as stone,
|
Theyl not give care unto the griefe and mone,
|
Which their poore brethren make being opprest,
|
Take heed hard heart, for death will thee arrest:
|
And then tis doubtfull will begin thy woe,
|
For all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
|
|
|
|
The second part, To the same tune.
|
IT is our sinnes doth cause Gods wrath to fall,
|
For we offend evn generally all,
|
Both rich and poore with yong and old also:
|
Let us repent, least God increase our woe.
|
If we repent the Lord will mercy show,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Some seeme to murmur and to make complaint,
|
But they are those whose faith is weake and faint,
|
They doe not truly feare nor serve the Lord,
|
Nor doe they note his blessed holy Word,
|
Upon repentance he will mercy show:
|
But all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Gods mercy goes before his justice still,
|
Hes alwayes sure to punish us for ill,
|
He lets us scape in hope we may amend,
|
Thus hes to us a father and a friend:
|
But we to him ungracelesse children grow,
|
Yet all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
What can a father doe more for a sonne,
|
Then our good Father and our God hath done?
|
He made us from the brittle earth and clay,
|
And gave us breath, yet him we disobay:
|
O wretched creatures why should we doe so,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Over all creatures man a ruler is,
|
Hath not the Lord done much in doing this?
|
O thinke on this and praise him for the same,
|
Give land and glory to his holy name,
|
All men thats living ought for to doe so,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
But we forget our duties to our God,
|
Wherefore he now doth scourge us with his rod,
|
His punishment we now are like to feele,
|
He shoots his Arrowes from his Bow of steele:
|
Which Bow doth seeme to strike a deadly blow,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
What father alwayes will forgive his child,
|
That disobays his will and is most vild?
|
Correction doth befit a wicked son,
|
Tis true we must confesse the same each one:
|
Now God corrects us by one blow,
|
In hope thereby, that we will better grow.
|
Then lets amend our lives most speedily,
|
We may live long or suddenly may die,
|
Let us prepare our selves for to repent,
|
It cannot long be ere our glasse be spent:
|
Our time is short, for certaine it is so,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Happys that man that is for death prepard,
|
Although he die heaven is his reward,
|
He lives to die, and dies to live againe,
|
In joyes eternally for to remaine:
|
Thrice blesseds he that lives and dieth so,
|
We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Then seeing all must die as that we must,
|
While we live here, in God lets put our trust,
|
Then we shall die to live with him in joy,
|
And happinesse which never will decay:
|
Let all true Christians wish it may be so,
|
For all must die, that is the debt we owe.
|
Looke not upon thy pleasures and thy pride,
|
But for thy silly soule doe thou provide,
|
Minde not this world tis vaine and transitory,
|
Minde heaven on high which is a place of glory
|
Unto which place Lord grant that we may goe,
|
When we doe die: Amen, let all say so.
|
|
|
|
|