George Herbert--Dialogue-Anthem

CHRISTIAN, DEATH.

Christian: ALAS, poor Death ! where is thy glory ?
Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting ?

Death: Alas, poor mortal, void of story !
Go spell and read how I have killed thy King.

Chr. Poor Death ! and who was hurt thereby ?
Thy curse being laid on Him makes thee accurst.

Dea. Let losers talk, yet thou shalt die ;
These arms shall crush thee.

Chr. Spare not, do thy worst.
I shall be one day better than before ;
Thou so much worse, that thou shalt be no more.