THE GIFT OF A SKULL by JOHN SKELTON

Your ugly token
My mind hath broken
From worldly lust;
For I have discust
We are but dust,
And die we must.
It is generall
To be mortall:
I have well espied
No man may him hide
From Death hollow-eyed,
With sinews withered
And bones shidered,
With his worm-eaten maw,
And his gastly jaw
Gasping aside,
Naked of hide,
Neither flesh nor fell.
Then by me councell,
Look that ye spell
With this gospell:
For whereso we dwell
Death doth us quell,
And with us mell.
For all our pampered paunches,
There may be no fraunchise,
Nor worldly bliss,
Redeem us from this:
Our days be dated,
To be checkmated
With draughtes of death,
Stopping our breath,
Our eyen sinking,
Our gummes grinning,
Our soules brinning.
To whom, then shall we sue,
For to have rescue,
But to sweet Jesu,
On us for to rue?
O goodly child.
Of Mary mild,
Then be our shield!
That we be not exiled
To the dine dale
Of bootless bale,
Nor to the lake
Of fiendes black.
But grant us grace
To see thy face,
And to purchase
Thine heavenly place,
And thy palace,
Full of solace,
Above the sky
That is so high;
Eternally
To behold and see
The Trinity!
Amen.

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