| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | VII. The Tyrant
Life and Death, 1460? | | Anonymous |
| | | WHEN Death driveth at the door · with his darts keen, | |
| Then no truce can be taken · no treasure on earth; | |
| But all lordships be lost · and the life both. | |
| If thou have pleased the Prince · that Paradise wieldeth, | |
| There is no berne born · that may thy bliss reckon! | 5 |
| But if thou have wrongfully wrought · and wilt not amend, | |
| Thou shalt bitterly bie · or else the Book faileth! * * * * * | |
| Why kill’st thou the body · that never care wrought? | |
| The grass, nor the green trees · grievèd thee never! | |
| But come forth, in their kinds · Christians to help, | 10 |
| With all beauty and bliss · that berne might devise. | |
| But of my meiny thou marreth · marvelled I have, | |
| How thou dar’st do them to death · each day so many! | |
| And the handiwork of Him · that Heaven wieldeth! | |
| How keepest thou his commandments · thou caitiff wretch! | 15 | | | |
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