On a Diseased Old Man, who Wept at thought of leaving the World.

I.

Shame on thy Beard! That thou canst Bug-bears dread!
Fear Death whom thou so oft hast seen,
So oft his Guest at Funerals been;
Thy self 'ith' Better Half already Dead! 
'Tis strange to see that Frozen Head
Such Plenteous Moysture shed;
Whence can this Stream be fed?
The Tears were just, which at thy Birth did flow,
For then Alass! thou had'st t'engage
Life's Inconveniences, but now
Thou art allow'd to quit the Tragick Stage,
Now to be careful to prolong the Scene,
And Act thy Miseries o're agen,
Is Folly not to be forgiv'n in ev'n thy Doating Age. 

II.

Full Fourscore Years (Bless us! a dreadful Space)
The World has us'd Thee ill,
Abus'd Thee to Thy Face;
And Doatard canst Thou still
Sollicite her Embrace?
In vain Thou covet'st to enjoy
This haughty Dame, when Age and Pains
Have shrunk thy Nerves, and chill'd thy Veins,
Who to thy Flourishing Years, was so Reserv'd and Coy.

III.

Can Cramps, Catharrs, and Palsies be
Such ravishing Company,
That thou shou'd'st mourn the Loss of their Society?
What Pleasures can the Grave deprive
Thy Senses of? What Inconvenience give,
Which Thou'rt exempted from Alive? 
At worst thou canst but have
Cold Lodging in the Grave;
Nor ly'st thou Warmer now tho cover'd o're
In Furr, till thy faint Limbs can bear no more:
Thou sleep'st each Night in so much Sear-cloth bound,
Thou'dst need no more wert thou to take thy Lodging Under-ground. 

IV.

Go; lay thy friv'lous Hopes of Health aside;
No longer Potions take,
No more Incisions make,
Let thy dull Flesh no more be Scarify'd:
Resign, resign thy Fated Breath,
Consult with no Physitian more, but Death:
When all thy Surgeons Instruments prove vain,
His never-failing Dart
Will Bleed thee gently at thy Heart,
And let out Life, the Sourse of all thy Pain:
Let then thy Funeral Pile be made,
With Rosemary and Cypress grac't,
Aloft on it thy Carcass plac't;
Beside thee there thy Crutches laid:
Those Utensills will thus oblige thee more,
Fomenting the kind Flame, then when they bore
Thy Crazy and Decrepit Limbs before!
