A Florentine Carnival Song of the Sixteenth Century

Sorrow, tears, and penitence Are our doom of pain for aye: This dead concourse riding by Hath no cry but penitence!

E'en as you are, once were we: You shall be as now we are: We are dead men, as you see: We shall see you dead men, where Nought avails to take great care, After sins, of penitence.

We too in the Carnival Sang our love-songs through the town; Thus from sin to sin we all Headlong, heedless, tumbled down: Now we cry, the world around, Penitence! oh, penitence!

Senseless, blind, and stubborn fools! Time steals all things as he rides: Honors, glories, states, and schools, Pass away, and nought abides; Till the tomb our carckse hides, And compels this penitence.

This sharp scythe you see us bear, Brings the world at length to woe: But from life to life we fare; And that life is joy or woe: All heaven's bliss on him doth flow Who on earth does penitence.

Living here, we all must die; Dying, every soul shall live: For the king of kings on high This fixed ordinance doth give: Lo, you all are fugitive! Penitence! Cry penitence!

Torment great and grievous dole Hath the thankless heart mid you: But the man of piteous soul Finds much honor in our crew: Love for loving is the due That prevents this penitence.

Sorrow, tears, and penitence Are our doom of pain for aye: This dead concourse riding by Hath no cry but penitence!