Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth
 Must be consumed with the Earth
 To rise from Generation free:
 Then what have I to do with thee?

The Sexes sprung from Shame & Pride,
 Blow'd in the morn; in evening died;
 But Mercy chang'd Death to Sleep;
 The Sexes rose to work & weep.
 
Thou, Mother of my Mortal part,
 With cruelty didst mould my Heart,
 And with false self-deceiving tears
 Didst bind my Nostrils, Eyes, & Ears:

Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay,
 And me to Mortal Life betray.
 The Death of Jesus set me free:
 Then what have I to do with thee?