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 lie.
Sweet Lord my God, say me not nay,
For if I perish here I'll lie.
Poor silly woman, say no more,
Thy faith, poor soul, hath saved thee,
Enter thou into thy glore,
And rest through 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 also had,
Glorious it was for to behold;
Her face did shine like to the sun,
Like threads of gold her hair hung down,
Her eyes like lamps unto the moon,
Of precious stones rich was her crown,
Angels and saints did welcome her,
The heavenly quoir did sing, Rejoice!
King David with his harp was there,
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