'Gascoigne's Good-morrow' (except) (poem) written by George Gascoigne

You that have spent the silent night

In sleep and quiet rest,

And joy to see the cheerful light

That riseth in the east.

Now clear your voice, now cheer your heart,

Come help me now to sing;

Each willing  wight come bear a part

To praise the heavenly King.


And you whom care in prisons keeps,

Or sickness doth suppress,

Or secret sorrow breaks your sleeps,

Or dolours do distress -

Yet bear a part in doleful wise, 

Yea think it good accord

And acceptable sacrifice,

Each sprite to praise the Lord.


The dreadful night with darksomeness

Had overspread the light,

And sluggish sleep with drowsiness

Had overpressed our might:

A glass wherein you may behold

Each storm that holds our breath -

Our bed the grave, our clothes like mould,

And sleep like dreadful death.


Yet as this deadly did last

But for a little space,

And heavenly day now night is past

Doth show his pleasant face,

So must we hope to see God's face

At last in heaven on high,

When we have changed this mortal place

For immortality...


Unto which joys for to attain

God grant us all his grave,

And send us after worldly pain

In heaven to have a place,

Where we may still enjoy that light

Which never shall decay.

Lord, for thy mercy lend us might

To see that joyful day.

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