20
Now flyte no more if ye be wise.
Yet at the last the Lord arose,
Environed with angels bright,
And to the wife in haste he goes,
Desired her soon pass out of sight.
O Lord, quoth she, eause do me right,
But not according to my sin;
Have you not promised day and night,
When sinners knock to let them in.
He said thou wrests the scriptures wrong
The night is come thou spent the day,
In whoredom thou hast lived long,
And to repent thou didst delay;
Still my commandments thon abus'dst,
And vice committedst busily,
Since now my mercy thou refus'dst,
Go down to hell eternally.
O Lord, my soul doth testify,
That I have spent my life in vain;
Ah! make a wand'ring sheep of me
And bring me to thy flock again.
Think'st thou there is no count to crave,
Of all these gifts in thee was planted,
I gave thee beauty 'bove the lave,
A pregnant wit thou never wanted.
Master, quoth she, it must be granted,
My sins is great give me contrition:
