Time's eldest son, Old Age

Time's eldest son, Old Age, the heir of Ease,

Strength's foe, Love's woe, and foster to Devotion,

Bids gallant youths in martial prowess please,

As for himself, he hath no earthly motion,

But thinks sighs, tears, vows, prayers, and sacrifices,

As good as shows, masks, jousts, or tilt devises.

Then sit thee down, and say thy

Nunc Dimittis,

With

De profundis,

Credo

and

Te Deum,

Chant

Miserere

for what is now so fit is,

As that, or this,

Paratum est cor meum,

O that thy Saint would take in worthy heart,

Thou canst not please her with a better part.

When others sing

Venite exultemus,

Stand by and turn to

Noli aemulari,

For

Quare fremuerunt

use

Oremus;

Vivat Eliza

for an

Ave Maria,

And teach those swains that live about thy cell,

To say

Amen

when thou dost pray so well.