Song [from “Old Fortunatus”] by Thomas Dekker

Virtue’s branches wither, Virtue pines,
O pity, pity, and alack the time ;
Vice doth flourish, Vice in glory shines,
Her gilded boughs above the cedar climb.

Vice hath golden cheeks, O pity, pity,
She in every land doth monarchize ;
Virtue is exiled from every city,
Virtue is a fool, Vice only wise.

O pity, pity, Virtue weeping dies,
Vice laughs to see her faint, alack the time.
This sinks, with painted wings the other flies :
Alack that best should fall, and bad should climb.

O pity, pity, pity, mourn, not sing,
Vice doth flourish, Vice in glory shines,
Vice is a saint, Virtue an underling ;
Virtue’s branches wither, Virtue pines.

From: http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/dekker/virtuesbranches.htm

Date: ?1598

By: Thomas Dekker (?1570-1632)