Tir'd and torn she went on still,
Sometimes she sat and sometimes fell,
Ay till she came to a high hill,
And then she lookd back to hell'
When she had climbed up the hill,
Before her was a goodly plain,
Where she did rest and weep her fill;
Then rose and to her feet again,
Her heart was glad the way was good,
Up to the hill she hied with haste;
The flowers were peasent to her taste.
Then she behold Jerusalem,
On Sion's mount were that it stood;
Shining with bright gold as the sun,
Her silly soul was very glad,
The ports of orient pearls bright,
Were very glorios to behold,
The prcious stone gave a pure light,
The walls were of transparent gold.
High were the walls, the gate were shut,
And long she fought for to be in;
But then for seare of biding out,
She knocked hard and made some din,
To knock and cry she did not spare,
Till father Adam did her hare:
Who it's that raps so rudley there,
Heaven cannot well be won by weir.
The Wife of Beith, since that you spier,
Hath stood thise two hours at gate:
Go back, quoth he, thou must forbear,
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