Wasted, weary, wherefore stay, <br />Wrestling thus with earth and clay? <br />From the body pass away;- <br />Hark! the mass is singing. <br /> <br />From thee doff thy mortal weed, <br />Mary Mother be thy speed, <br />Saints to help thee at thy need;- <br />Hark! the knell is ringing. <br /> <br />Fear not snow-drift driving fast, <br />Sleet, or hail, or levin blast; <br />Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast, <br />And the sleep be on thee cast <br />That shall ne'er know waking. <br /> <br />Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone, <br />Earth flits fast, and time draws on,- <br />Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan, <br />Day is near the breaking.<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dying-gipsy-smuggler/
