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I think, quoth Thomas, Womens Tongues
Of aspen leaves are made
Thou unbelieving Wretch, quoth she,
All is not true that's said.
When Mary Magdalen heard her then,
She came unto the Gate;
Quoth she, good Woman, you must think
Upon your former state.
No Sinner enters in this Place,
Quoth Mary Magdalene then
'Twere ill for you, fair mistress mild
She answered her again.
You for your honesty, quoth she,
Should once been stoned to Death,
Had not our Saviour Christ come by,
And written on the Earth.
It was not your occupation,
You are become divine,
I hope my Soul in Christ's passion,
Shall be as safe as thine.
