Time, father of forgetfulness
So longed for now in my distress,
Since wisdom nor the saints can steel me,
Oh, do thou heal me!
LAMENT XVII
God hath laid his hand on me:
He hath taken all my glee,
And my spirit's emptied cup
Soon must give its life-blood up.
If the sun doth wake and rise,
If it sink in gilded skies,
All alike my heart doth ache,
Comfort it can never take.
From my eyelids there do flow
Tears, and I must weep e'en so
Ever, ever. Lord of Light,
Who can hide him from thy sight!
Though we shun the stormy sea,
Though from war's affray we flee,
Yet misfortune shows her face
Howsoe'er concealed our place.
Mine a life so far from fame
Few there were could know my name;
Evil hap and jealousy
Had no way of harming me.
But the Lord, who doth disdain
Flimsy safeguards raised by man,
Struck a blow more swift and sure
In that I was more secure.