|
|
Whate'er is Born of Mortal
Birth,
Must be consumed with the Earth
To rise from Generation free:
Then what have I to do with thee?
The sexes sprung from Shame & Pride
Blowd in the morn; in evening died
But Mercy changd Death into Sleep;
The Sexes rose to work & weep.
Thou Mother of my Mortal part,
With cruelty didst mould my Heart.
And with false self-decieving tears,
Didst bind my Nostrils Eyes & Ears.
Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay
And me to Mortal Life betray:
The Death of Jesus set me free.
Them what have I to do with thee?
|
|
|