Page:Cogitations upon death, or, The mirror of man's misery (1).pdf/8

 My precious blood full fast did run, Out thro' my side abundantly, Yet now no part have ye therein; Which may thee dread when thou'rt to die. When Christ begins for to propound, The dreadful doon of life and death, The hopeless soul shall faint and groan, Before the sentence pass their teeth; With weeping eyes and doleful voice, They shall lament most piteously, That ever they were made, alas! This makes me dread when I shall die. They shall be safe, I dare well say, Who are well ruled at his right hand, And pass to heaven the sell same day, With music, mirth, and angels sound. But wretches all who have done wrong, Shall cry to hills and mountains high, That they would fall them down upon; This makes me dread when I shall die. Then in wrath he shall cry forth, Depart from me, ye cursed band, For on the poor ye had no reuth, Nor stood in awe at my command; Therefore begone, no longer stand, My face again ye shall ne'er see, But still in darkness to remain; This makes me dread when I shall die.