His Meditation Upon Death

Read 'His Meditation Upon Death' by 'Robert Herrick' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.

His Meditation Upon Death by Robert Herrick

 BE those few hours, which I have yet to spend, 
Blest with the meditation of my end; 
Though they be few in number, I'm content; 
If otherwise, I stand indifferent, 
Nor makes it matter, Nestor's years to tell, 
If man lives long, and if he live not well. 
A multitude of days still heaped on 
Seldom brings order, but confusion. 
Might I make choice, long life should be with-stood;
Nor would I care how short it were, if good; 
Which to effect, let ev'ry passing bell 
Possess my thoughts, next comes my doleful knell; 
And when the night persuades me to my bed, 
I'll think I'm going to be buried; 
So shall the blankets which come over me 
Present those turfs, which once must cover me;
And with as firm behaviour I will meet 
The sheet I sleep in, as my winding-sheet. 
When Sleep shall bathe his body in mine eyes, 
I will believe, that then my body dies; 
And if I chance to wake, and rise thereon, 
I'll have in mind my resurrection, 
Which must produce me to that Gen'ral Doom,
To which the peasant, so the prince must come, 
To hear the Judge give sentence on the Throne, 
Without the least hope of affection. 
Tears, at that day, shall make but weak defense, 
When Hell and horror fright the conscience. 
Let me, though late, yet at the last, begin 
To shun the least temptation to a sin; 
Though to be tempted be no sin, until 
Man to th'alluring object gives his will. 
Such let my life assure me, when my breath 
Goes thieving from me, I am safe in death; 
Which is the height of comfort, when I fall, 
I rise triumphant in my funeral.

Form: Heroic Couplet

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