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Let me not then condemned be,
Moſt humbly, Lord, I thee requeſt,
Of ſinners all none like to me
So much the more thy praiſe ſhall laſt.

Thy praiſing me is not perſite,
My ſaints ſhall praiſe me evermore
In ſinners I have no delight,
Such ſacrifice, I do abhor.

Then ſhe unto the Lord did ſay,
At footſtool of thy grace I'll ly,
Sweet Lord my God, ſay me not nay,
For if I periſh, here I'll die.

Poor ſilly woman, ſpeak no more,
Thy faith, poor ſoul, has ſaved thee:
Enter thou then into my glore,
And reſt thro' all eternity.

How ſoon our Saviour theſe words ſaid,
A long white robe to her was given:
And then the angels did her lead,
Forthwith within the gates of heaven:
A laurel crown, ſet on her head,
Spangled with rubies and with gold,
A bright white palm ſhe always had,
Glorious it was for to behold;
Her face did ſhine like to the ſun,
Like threads of gold her hair hang down;
Her eyes like lamps unto the moon,
Of precious ſtones rich was her crown;
Angels and ſaints did welcome her,
The heavenly choir did ſing, rejoice:
King David with his harp was there:
The ſilver bells made a great noiſe,