In what estate so ever I be Timor mortis conturhat me.
As I went on a merry morning,
I heard a bird both weep and sing.
This was the tenor of her talking:
“Timor mortis conturhat me.”
I asked that bird what she meant.
“I am a musket both fair and gent;
For dread of death I am all shent.:
“When I shall die, I know no day;
What country or place I cannot say;
Wherefore this song sing I may:
“Jesu Christ, when he should die,
To his Father he gan say,
`Father,’ he said, ‘in Trinity,
“All Christian people, behold and see:
This world is but a vanity
And replete with necessity.
“Wake I or sleep, eate or drink,
When I on my last end do think,
For greate fear my soul do shrink:
“God grant us grace him for to serve,
And be at our end when we sterve,
And from the fiend he us preserve.
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Timor Mortis
