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The Church.
¶ Judgement.
Almightie Judge, how shall poore wretches brook
Thy dreadfull look,
Able a heart of iron to appall,
When thou shalt call
For ev'ry mans peculiar book?
Thy dreadfull look,
Able a heart of iron to appall,
When thou shalt call
For ev'ry mans peculiar book?
What others mean to do, I know not well;
Yet I heare tell,
That some will turn thee to some leaves therein
So void of sinne,
That they in merit shall excell.
Yet I heare tell,
That some will turn thee to some leaves therein
So void of sinne,
That they in merit shall excell.
But I resolve, when thou shalt call for mine,
That to decline,
And thrust a Testament into thy hand:
Let that be scann'd.
There thou shalt finde my faults are thine.
That to decline,
And thrust a Testament into thy hand:
Let that be scann'd.
There thou shalt finde my faults are thine.
¶ Heaven.
O Who will show me those delights on high?
Echo.I.
Thou Echo, thou art mortall, all men know.
Echo.No.
Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves?
Echo.Leaves.
And are there any leaves, that still abide?
Echo.Bide.
What leaves are they? impart the matter wholly.
Echo.Holy.
Are holy leaves the Echo then of blisse?
Echo.Yes.
Then tell me, what is that supreme delight?
Echo.Light.
Echo.I.
Thou Echo, thou art mortall, all men know.
Echo.No.
Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves?
Echo.Leaves.
And are there any leaves, that still abide?
Echo.Bide.
What leaves are they? impart the matter wholly.
Echo.Holy.
Are holy leaves the Echo then of blisse?
Echo.Yes.
Then tell me, what is that supreme delight?
Echo.Light.
Light
