Leaving spider and mouse to their work.
The moon yet doth ride through the night, friend,
The sun yet doth warden the day:
And we’ll lie down and rest,
On the earth’s ample breast,
While these rivers of blood run away.
Come, loosen the belt and the tunic,
Uncover your head from its steel!
Leave the mess-tin to rust!
Let the flask choke with dust!