Classic Poem

What grieves my bones and makes my body faint?
What pricks my flesh and tears my head in twain?
Why do I wake when rest should me attaint?
When others laugh why do I live in pain?
I toss, I turn, I change from side to side,
And stretch me oft in sorrow's links betied.

I toss as one betossed in waves of care,
I turn to flee the woes of lothsome life,
I change to spy if death this corpse might spare,
I stretch to heaven to rid me of this strife,
Thus do I stretch and change, and toss and turn,
While I in hope of heaven my life do burn.

Then hold thee still, let be thy heaviness,
Abolish care, forget thy pining woe,
For by this means soon shall thou find redress;
When oft betossed, hence thou to heaven must go.
Then toss and turn, and tumble frank and free.
O happy trice when thou in heaven shall be.