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Grim Death the end is bringing
Of joy to this poor heart in me;
Ah sorely doth he grieve it!
O Lord my God, I cry to Thee,
Receive my soul for pity's sake;
My body to the earth and worms I give.
My lovely art, my singing,
Grows dim within my bosom's shrine;
To whom shall I now leave it?
Ah God, it will no more be mine!
'Twas Thou didst give it, who dost take.
Grant me Thy mercy now while yet I live!
Yes, I have done with sweetest song,
This is the last, my sad complaint,
Death comes and brings a silence long:
Then list to me, my fellows all,
Women and men alike, I mean,
None can say aught 'gainst this, I ween,
See that from righteousness ye never fall.
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