|
| 5 |
|
| O my black Soule, now thou art sum̄oned [27] |
| By Sicknesse deaths Herald and Champion |
| Thou art like a Pilgrim, wch abroad hath donne |
| Treason, and durst not turne from* whence hee's fledd; |
| Or as a Theefe w.ch till deaths doome bee read |
| Wisheth himselfe deliuerd from prison, |
| But, Damnd and hal'd to execution, |
| Wisheth that still hee might bee imprisoned. |
| Yet Grace (if thou repent) thou canst not lack |
| But who shall giue thee that Grace to begin? |
| O make thy selfe with holy mourning black |
| And redd with blushing as thou art w.th Sinns |
| Or washe thee in Christs bloud, wch hath this might |
| That beeing redd it dyes redd soules to white |
|
| 6 |
|
| This is my Playes last Scene. heere Heauens appoint |
| My Pilgrimages last mile; and my race |
| (Idly, yet quickly, runn) hath this last pace, |
| My spans last Inch, my minutes latest point, |
| And gluttonous death will instantly vnioynt |
| My body and Soule, and I shall sleepe apace |
| Or prsently (I knowe not) see that face |
| Whose feare already shakes mee every ioynt. |
| Then, as my soule to heauen (her first seate) takes flight |
| And Earth-borne body in the Earth shall dwell |
| So fall my Sinnes, (that all may haue theyr right) |
| To where th'are bredd, and would presse mee; to hell. |
| Impute mee righteous purged thus of evill |
| ffor so I leaue the world, the flesh; and deuill
|
[CW: 7 I am___] |