{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_Wife_of_Beith_4/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_Wife_of_Beith_4","id":"wikisource_Wife_of_Beith_4","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Wife_of_Beith_(4)","summary":null,"tags":["19th_century_works","Chapbooks","Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Main_pages_with_authority_control_data","PD-old","Pamphlets","Religion","Works_by_unknown_authors","Works_of_uncertain_date","Works_with_non-numeric_dates","Works_with_reconstructed_words_or_phrases"],"text":"THE\n\nWife of Beith;\n\nWith a description of her\n\nJOURNEY TO HEAVEN.\n\n\u2014\u2014\u20140\u2014\u2014\u2014\n\nFALKIRK:\n\nPRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.\n\nTHE\n\nWIFE OF BEITH.\n\nIn Beith once dwelt a worthy wife,\n\nOf whom brave Chaucer mention makes\n\nShe lived a licentious life,\n\nAnd namely in venereal acts;\n\nBnt death did come for all her cracks,\n\nWhen years were spent and days outdriven,\n\nThen suddenly she sickness takes,\n\nDeceast forthwith and went to heaven.\n\nBut as she went upen the way.\n\nThere followed her a certain guide;\n\nAnd kindly to her did say,\n\nWhere mean you dame for to abide?\n\nI know you are the Wife of Beith,\n\nAnd would not then that you go wrong\n\nFor I'm your friend, and will not loath\n\nThat you go thro' this narrow throng,\n\nThis way is broader, go with me.\n\nAnd very pleasant is the way;\n\nI'll bring thee where you would be,\n\nGo with me friend say me not nay.\n\nShe looked on him, then did speer,\n\nI pray you sir, what is your name?\n\nShow me the way how came you here?\n\nTo tell it to me is no shame.\nIs that a favour 'bout your neck?\n\nAnd what is that upon your side?\n\nIs it a bag or silver sack?\n\nWhat are you then where do you bide?\n\nI was a servant unto Christ,\n\nAnd Judas likewise is my name.\n\nI knew you by your colours first,\n\nForsooth indeed you are to blame;\n\nYour master did you not betray?\n\nAnd hang yourself when ye had done?\n\nWhere'er you bide I will not stay;\n\nGo then you knave let me alone.\n\nWhate'er 'I be I'll be your guide,\n\nBecause you know not well the way;\n\nWill you at once in me confide,\n\nI'll do all friendship that I may,\n\nWhat would you me?\n\nWhere do you dwell,\n\nI have nought will go with thee;\n\nI fear it is some lower cell,\n\nI pray thee therefore let me be.\n\nThis is a stormy night and cold,\n\nI'll bring you to a warmer inn;\n\nWill you go forward and be bold,\n\nAnd mend your pace till ye win in.\n\nI fear your inn will be too warm,\n\nFor too much hotness is not best;\n\nSuch hotness there may do me harm,\n\nAnd keep me that I do not rest;\n\nI know your way it is to hell.\n\nFor you are not one of the eleven;\nGo haste you then unto your cell,\n\nMy way is only unto heaven.\n\nThat way is by the gates of hell,\n\nIf you intend there for to go,\n\nGo dame I will not you compel,\n\nBnt I with you will go also.\n\nThen down they went a right steep hill,\n\nWhere smoke and darkness did abound\n\nAnd pitch and sulphur burned still,\n\nWith yells and cries hills did resound,\n\nThe fiend himself came to the gate,\n\nAnd asked him where he had been;\n\nDo you not know and have forgot,\n\nSeeking this wife could not be seen.\n\nGood dame said he will be here\n\nI pray you then tell me your name;\n\nThe wife of Beith since that you speer,\n\nBut to come in I were to blame,\n\nI will not have you then good dame\n\nFor you were mistress of the flyting,\n\nIf once within this gate you come,\n\nI will be troubled with your biting.\n\nCummer go back and let me be,\n\nHere are too many of your rout;\n\nFor women lewd like unto thee,\n\nI cannot turn my foot about.\n\nSir thief I say I shall bide out,\n\nBut gossip thou wast ne'er to me;\n\nFor to come in, I'm not so stout,\n\nAnd of my biting thou'st be free;\nBut Lucifer what's that on thee?\n\nHast thou no water in this place?\n\nThou look'st so black it seems to me,\n\nThou ne'er dost wash thy ugly face,\n\nIf we had water here to drink,\n\nWe would not care for washing then,\n\nInto these flames and filthy stink.\n\nWe burn with fire in the doom:\n\nUpbraid me then goodwife no more,\n\nFor first when I heard of the name;\n\nI knew thou had such words in store,\n\nWould make the devil to think shame,\n\nForsooth Sir thief thou art to blame,\n\nIf I had time now to abide;\n\nOnce ye were well but may think shame\n\nThat lost heaven for rebellious pride;\n\nWho traitor like fell with the rest,\n\nBecause ye would not be content,\n\nAnd now of bliss are dispossest,\n\nWithout all grace for to repent,\n\nThou made'st poor Eve long since consent,\n\nTo eat of the forbidden tree;\n\n(Which we her daughters may repent)\n\nAnd made us almost like to thee;\n\nBut God he blest wh\u1ecf past thee by.\n\nAnd did a Saviour provide;\n\nFor Adam's whole posterity,\n\nAll those who do in him confide,\n\nAdieu false fiend, I may not bide,\n\nWith thee I may no longer stay;\nMy God in death he was my Guide,\n\nO'er hell I'll get the victory.\n\nThen up the hill the poor wife went\n\nOpprest with stinking flames and fear,\n\nWeeping right sore with great relent,\n\nFor to go else she wist not where;\n\na narrow way with thorus and briers,\n\nand full of mires was here before;\n\nShe sighed oft with sobs and tears.\n\nThe poor wife's heart was wond'rous sore;\n\nTired and torn she went on still,\n\nSometimes she sat and sometimes fell,\n\naye till she came to a high hill,\n\nand then she looked back to hell.\n\nWhen that she had climb'd up the hill,\n\nBefore her was a goodly plain;\n\nWhere she did rest and weep her fill,\n\nThen rose and to her feet again.\n\nHer heart was glad the way was good\n\nUp to the hill she hied with haste,\n\nThe flowers were fair where there she stood,\n\nThe field were pleasant to her taste.\n\nThen she espied Jerusalem,\n\nOn Zion's mount where that it stood:\n\nShining with gold light as the sun,\n\nHer silly soul was then right glad;\n\nThe ports of pearls shining bright,\n\nWere very glorious to behold,\n\nWith precious stones gave such a light\nThe walls were of transparent gold,\n\nhigh were the walls the gates were shut\n\nand long she thought for to be in;\n\nBut then for fear of biding out,\n\nShe knocked hard and made some din.\n\nTo knock and cry she did not spare\n\nTill father Adam did her hear;\n\nWho is't that raps so rudely there,\n\nHeaven cannot well be won by weir.\n\nThe wife of Beith since that you spier,\n\nHath stood these two hours at the gate.\n\nGo back quoth he, thou must forbear,\n\nHere may no sinners entrance get.\n\nAdam, quoth she, I shall be in,\n\nIn spite of all such churls as thee;\n\nThou'rt the original of all sin.\n\nFor which thou art not flyting free,\n\nBut for thy soul offences fled.\n\nAdam went back and let her be,\n\nLooking as if his nose had bled.\n\nThen mother Eve did at him speer,\n\nWho was it there that made such din?\n\nHe said, a woman would be here,\n\nFor me I durst not let her in.\n\nI'll go, said she, and ask her will,\n\nHer company I would have fain;\n\nBut aye she cried and knocked still,\n\nAnd in no ways she would refrain.\n\nDaughter, said Eve, you will do well,\n\nTo come again another time;\n\nHeaven is not won by sword or steel,\nNor none that's guilty of a crime.\n\nMother said she, the fault is thine,\n\nThat knocking here so long I stand;\n\nThy guilt is more than that of mine,\n\nIf thou wilt rightly understand,\n\nThou wast the cause of all our sin,\n\nWherein we were born and conceived.\n\nOur misery thou did'st begin,\n\nBy thee thy husband was deceiv'd.\n\nEve went back where Noah was,\n\nand told him all how she was blam'd\n\nOf her great sin and first trespass,\n\nWhereof she was so much asham'd.\n\nThen Noah said, I will go down,\n\nand will forbid her that she knock;\n\nGo back, he said, ye drunken lown,\n\nYour none of the celestial flock.\n\nNoah she said, now hold thy peace,\n\nWhere I drank ale thou didst drink wine\n\nDiscover'd was to thy disgrace,\n\nWhen thou wast full like to a swine,\n\nIf I was drunk I learned at the\n\nFor thou'rt the father and the first,\n\nThat others taught and likewise me,\n\nTo drink when as we had no thirst.\n\nThen Noah turned back with speed\n\nand told the patriarch Abra'am then,\n\nHow that the carlin made him dread,\n\nAnd how she all his deeds did ken.\n\nAbra'am then said now get you gone\n\nLet us no more hear of your din;\nNo lying wife as I suppose,\n\nMay enter in these gates within.\n\nAbra'am, she said will you but spare\n\nI hope you are not flyting free;\n\nYou of yourself had such a care,\n\nDeny'd your wife and made a lie;\n\nGo then I pray you let me be\n\nFor I repent of all my sin,\n\nDo thou but ope the gates to me,\n\nand let me quietly come in.\n\nAbra'am went back to Jacob then,\n\nand told his grandson how to speed,\n\nHow that of her nothing he wan\n\nan I that he thought the carlin mad,\n\nThen down came Jacob thro' the close\n\nand said go backward down to hell;\n\nJacob quoth she I know your voice,\n\nThat gate pertaineth to thysell,\n\nOf thy old truinpheries I can tell,\n\nWith two sisters thou led'st thy life.\n\nand the third part of these tribes twelve\n\nThou got with maids besides thy wife;\n\nand stole thy father's bennison,\n\nOnly by fiand thy father frae;\n\nGave thou not him for venison,\n\nA kid instead of breaken rae?\n\nJacob himself was tickled so\n\nHe went to Lot where he was lying,\n\nand to the gate prayed him to go,\n\nTo staunch the carlin of her crying\n\nLot says fair dame make less ado,\nand come again another day.\n\nOld harlot carle and drunkard too,\n\nThou with thine own two daughters lay\n\nOf thine untimely se d I say,\n\nProceeded never good but ill.\n\nPoor Lot for shame then stole away,\n\nAnd left the wife to knock her fill,\n\nMeek Moses then went down at last,\n\nTo pacify the carlin then;\n\nNow dame said he, knock not so fast,\n\nYour knocking will not let you ben.\n\nGood sir, she said, I am aghast,\n\nWhene'er I look you in the face;\n\nIf that your law till now had last,\n\nThen surely I had ne'er got grace:\n\nBut Moses, sir, now by your leave,\n\nalthough in heaven you be possesst,\n\nFor all you saw did not believe,\n\nBut you in Horeb once transgressed,\n\nWherefore by all it is confest.\n\nYou but got up the land to see,\n\nand in the mount were put to rest,\n\nYea buried there where you did die.\n\nMoses meekly turned back,\n\nand told his brother Aaron there,\n\nHow the old carlin did so crack,\n\nand in no ways did him forbear.\n\nThen Aaron said, I will not swear,\n\nBut I'll conjure her as I can;\n\nand I will make her now forbear,\n\nSo that she shall not rap again.\nThen Aaron said, you whorish wife,\n\nGet you gone and rap no more;\n\n(With idols you have led your life,)\n\nOr then you will repent it sore.\n\nGood Aaron priest I know you well,\n\nThis golden calf you may remember.\n\nWho made the people plagues to see.\n\nThe is of you recorded ever;\n\nyour priesthood now is nothing worth,\n\nChrist is my only priest, and he,\n\nMy lord, who shall not keep me forth,\n\nSo I'll get in in spite of thee.\n\nUp started Sampson at the length,\n\nUnto the gate apace came hc,\n\nTo drive away the wife with strength,\n\nBut all in vain it would not be.\n\nSampson, quoth she, the world may see,\n\nThou was a judge that proved unjust;\n\nThose gracious gifts which God gave thee,\n\nThou lost by thy licentious lust,\n\nFrom Delila thy wicked wife,\n\nThy secrets chief couldst not refrain,\n\nShe daily sought to take thy life,\n\nThou lost thy locks and then was slain,\n\nThough thou wast strong it was in vain\n\nHaunted with harlots here and there,\n\nThen Sampson turned back again,\n\nAnd with the wife would mell nae mair,\n\nThen said king David knock no more,\nWe are troubled with thy cry,\n\nDavid quoth she, how cam'st thou here?\n\nThou might'st bide out as well as I,\n\nThy deeds no ways thou canst deny,\n\nIs not thy sin far worse than mine?\n\nWho with Uriah's wife did lie,\n\nAnd caus'd him to be murder'd syne,\n\nThen Jedith said who's there that knocks,\n\nAnd to our neighbour gives these notes\n\nMadam said she let be your mocks,\n\nI came not here for cutting throats;\n\nI am a sinner full of blots,\n\nYet through Christ's blood I shall be clean.\n\nIf you and I be judged by votes,\n\nThe thing you did was worse than mine\n\nThen said the sapient Solomon,\n\nThou art a sinner all men say,\n\nTherefore our Saviour, I suppose,\n\nThee heavenly entrance will deny,\n\nMind quoth she thy latter days,\n\nWhat idol gods thou did upset,\n\nAnd wast so lewd in Venus' plays,\n\nThou didst thy maker quite forget.\n\nThen Jonas said fair dame content you,\n\nIf you intend to come to grace.\n\nYou must dree penance and repent you\n\nEre you come within this place.\nJonas quoth she how stands the case?\n\nHow came you here to be with Christ?\n\nHow dare you look me in the face?\n\nConsidering how you broke your tryst,\n\nTo go God's errand thou withstood him\n\nAnd held his council in disdain;\n\nThe raven messenger thou play'd him,\n\nAnd brought no message back again;\n\nWith mercy thou wast not content,\n\nWhen that the Lord he did them spare\n\nAlthough the city did repent,\n\nIt grieved thee thy heart was sair:\n\nLet me alone and speak no more,\n\nGo back again into the whale,\n\nFor now my heart is also sore,\n\nBut yet I hope I shall prevail.\n\nGood Jonas said crack on your fill,\n\nFor here I may no longer tarry,\n\nYet knock as long as e'er you will,\n\nAnd go into a firry farry.\n\nJonas she says ye do miscarry,\n\nAs I have done in former time,\n\nYou're no Saint Peter nor Saint Mary,\n\nThy blot's as black as ever mine,\n\nSo Jonas then he was asham'd,\n\nBecause he was not flyting free,\n\nOf all his faults she had him blame'd\n\nHe left the wife and let her be.\n\nSaint Thomas then I council thee,\n\nGo speak unto yon wicked wife,\n\nShe shames us all, and as for me,\nHer like I never heard all my life.\n\nThomas then said, you make such din,\n\nWhen you are out, and meikle din\n\nIf you were here, I'll lay my life,\n\nNo peace the saints would get within;\n\nIt is your trade for to be flyting,\n\nStill in a fever as one raves.\n\nNo marvel though you wives be biting,\n\nYour tongues are made of aspen leaves\n\nThomas quoth she, let be your taunts,\n\nYou play the pick thank I perceive,\n\nThough ye be brother to the saints,\n\nAn unbelieving heart you have;\n\nThou brought the Lord unto the grave,\n\nBut would no more with him remain,\n\nAnd wast the last of all the lave,\n\nThat did believe he rose again,\n\nThere might no doctrine do thee good,\n\nNor miracles make thee confide,\n\nTill thou beheld Christ's wounds and blood,\n\nAnd put'st thy hands unto his side;\n\nDidst thou not daily with him bide,\n\nAnd see the wonders which he wrought\n\nBut blest are they who do confide,\n\nAnd do believe yet saw him not;\n\nThomas, she says, will you speer,\n\nIf that my sister Magdalene,\n\nWill come to me if she be here;\n\nFor comfort sure you give me nane.\nHe was so blythe he turned back,\n\nand thanked God that he was gane,\n\nHe had no will to hear her crack,\n\nBut told it Mary Magdalene.\n\nWhen she did hear her sister's mocks,\n\nShe went unto the gate with speed:\n\nand asked her who is't that knocks?\n\n'Tis I, the wife of Beith indeed,\n\nShe said good mistress you must stand\n\nTill ye be tried by tribulation.\n\nSister, quoth she, give me your hand,\n\nare we not both of one vocation?\n\nIt is not through your occupation,\n\nThat you are placed so divine,\n\nMy faith is fixed on Christ's passion,\n\nMy soul shall be as safe as thine.\n\nThen Mary went away in haste,\n\nThe carlin made her so asham'd,\n\nShe had no will of such a guest,\n\nTo lose her pains and be so blamed.\n\nNow good St. Paul, said Magdalene,\n\nBecause you are a learned man,\n\nGo and convince this woman then,\n\nFor I have done all that I can:\n\nSure if she were in hell I doubt,\n\nThey would not keep her longer there\n\nCut to the gate would turn her out;\n\nand send her back to be elsewhere,\n\nThen went the good apostle Paul,\n\nTo put the wife in better tune.\n\nWash off the filth that fyles thy soul,\nThen shall heav'n's gates be open soon.\n\nRemember Paul what thou hast done,\n\nFor the epistles thou didst compile,\n\nThough now thou sittest up above,\n\nThou persecuted Christ awhile.\n\nWoman he said, thou art not right,\n\nThat which I did, I did not know;\n\nBut thou did sin with all thy might,\n\nAlthough the preachers did thee show,\n\nSaint Paul, she said, it is not so,\n\nI did not know as well as ye,\n\nBut I will to my Saviour go,\n\nWho will his favour show to me;\n\nYou think you are of flyting free,\n\nBecause you were wrapt up above.\n\nBut yet it was Christ's grace to thee,\n\nand matchlessness of his dear love,\n\nThen, Paul she says let Peter come,\n\nIf he be lying let him rise,\n\nTo him I will confess my sin.\n\nand let him quickly bring the keys.\n\nToo long I stand, he'll let me in,\n\nFor why I cannot longer tarry,\n\nThen shall ye all be quit of din,\n\nFor I must speak with good saint Mary.\n\nThe good apostle discontent,\n\nRight suddenly he turned back,\n\nFor he did very much repent,\n\nTo hear the carlin proudly crack,\n\nPaul says good brother now arise,\n\nand make an end of all this din,\nAnd if be so you have the keys,\n\nOpen and let the carlin in;\n\nThe apostle Paul arose at last,\n\nand to the gate with speed he he hies,\n\nCarlin quoth he knock not so fast,\n\nYou cumber Mary with your cries.\n\nPeter she said let Christ arise,\n\nand grant me mercy in my need;\n\nFor why, I ne'er denied him thrice,\n\nas though thyself hast done indeed.\n\nThou carling bold what's that to thee?\n\nI got remission for my sin;\n\nIt cost many sad tears to me,\n\nBefore I entered here within.\n\nIt will not be thy muckle din,\n\nWill cause heaven gates opened be,\n\nThou must be purified of sin;\n\nand of all sins must be made free.\n\nSaint Peter then its nought to you\n\nThat you were rid of your fears,\n\nIt was Christ's gracious look I trow\n\nThat made ye wipe those bitter tears,\n\nThe door of mercy is not closed,\n\nI may get grace as well as ye,\n\nIt is not so as ye supposed\n\nI will be in, in spite of thee.\n\nBut wicked wife it is too late,\n\nThou shouldest have mourn'd upon earth,\n\nRepentance now is out of date:\n\nIt should have been before thy death;\nThou mightest then have turned wrath\n\nTo mercy then and mercy great,\n\nBut now the Lord is very loth,\n\nand all thy crys not worth a jot.\n\nAh! Peter then what shall I do?\n\nHe will not hear me as I hear,\n\nShall I despair of mercy too!\n\nNo, no, I,ll trust in mercy dear:\n\nand if I perish here I'll stay,\n\nand never go from heaven bright;\n\nI'll ever hope and always pray,\n\nTntil I get my Saviour's sight.\n\nI think indeed you now are right,\n\nIf you had faith you would win in;\n\nImportune then with all your might,\n\nFaith is the feet wherewith you come.\n\nIt is the hands will hold him fast\n\nBut weak faith never may presume;\n\n'Twill let you sink and be aghast.\n\nStongly believe, or your undone.\n\nBut good Saint Peter, let me be,\n\nHad you such faith did it abound?\n\nWhen you did walk upon the sea,\n\nWere ye not likely to be drown'd?\n\nHad not our Saviour helped thee,\n\nWho came and took thee by the hand:\n\nSo can my Lord do unto me,\n\nand bring to the promised land,\n\nIs my faith weak? Yea he is still\n\nThe same and ever shall remain;\n\nHis mercies last and his good will,\nTo bring me to his flock again;\n\nHe will me help and me relieve,\n\nand will increase my faith also,\n\nIf weakly I can but believe,\n\nFor from this place I'll never go.\n\nBut Peter said how can that be?\n\nHow dar'st thou look him in the face?\n\nSuch horrid sinners like to thee,\n\nCan have no courage to have grace;\n\nHere none comes in but they that's stout,\n\nand suffer'd have for the good cause?\n\nLike unto thee are keeped cut.\n\nFor thou hast kroken all Moses' laws.\n\nPeter she said, I do appeal,\n\nFrom Moses and from thee also,\n\nWith him and you I'll not prevail,\n\nBut to my Saviour I will go;\n\nIndeed of old you were right stout,\n\nWhen ysu did cut off Malchus' ear;\n\nBut after that you went about.\n\nAnd a poor maid then did you fear.\n\nWherefore Saint Peter do forbear,\n\nA comforter indeed your not;\n\nLet me alone, I do not fear,\n\nTake home the wissel of your groat;\n\nWas it your own or Paul's good sword\n\nWhen that your courage was so keen,\n\nYou were right stout upon my word,\n\nThen you would fain at fishing been;\n\nFor ere the crowing of the cock,\nYou did deny your master thrice.\n\nFor all your stoutness turned a block,\n\nNow flyte no more if ye be wise.\n\nYet at the last the Lord arose,\n\nEnvironed with angels bright.\n\nAnd to the wife in haste he goes,\n\nDesir'd her to pass out of sight,\n\nO Lord quoth she, cause me do right\n\nBut not according to any sin,\n\nHave you not promised day and night,\n\nWhen sinners knocks to let them in?\n\nHe said thou wrests the scriptures wrong.\n\nThe night is come thou spent the day\n\nIn whoredom thou hast lived long,\n\nAnd do repent thou didst delay;\n\nStill my commandments thou abus'd\n\nAnd vice committed busily,\n\nSince now my mercy thou refused\n\nGo down to hell eternally,\n\nO Lord, my soul doth testify,\n\nThat I have spent my life in vain;\n\nAh! make a wandering sheep of me,\n\nAnd bring me to thy flock again.\n\nThink'st thou there is no count to crave,\n\nOf all these gifts in thee was planted,\n\nI gave thee beauty 'bove the lave,\n\nA pregnant wit thou never wanted.\n\nMaster, quoth she it must be granted,\n\nMy sins are great give me contrition;\nThe forlorn son when he repented.\n\nObtain'd his father's full remission.\n\nI spar\u2019d my judgment many times,\n\nAnd sp\u2019ritual pastors did thee send;\n\nBut thou renew'd'st thy former crimes,\n\nAye more and more me to offend.\n\nMy Lord, quoth she, I do amend,\n\nLamenting for my former vice,\n\nThe poor thief at the latter end,\n\nFor one word went to paradise.\n\nThe thief heard never of my teachings,\n\nMy heavenly precepts and my laws,\n\nBut thou wast daily at my preachings,\n\nBoth heard and saw and yet misknows,\n\nMaster quoth she the scriptures shows,\n\nThe Jewish woman who play'd the lown\n\nConform unto the Hebrew laws,\n\nWas brought to thee to be put down;\n\nBut nevertheless thou let'st her go,\n\nAnd made the Pharisee's afraid.\n\nIndeed, says Christ, it was right so,\n\nAnd that my bidding was obey'd,\n\nWoman, he said, I may not cast,\n\nThe children's biead to dog's like thee,\n\nAlthough my mercies yet do last,\n\nThere's mercy here but none for thee,\n\nBut, loving Lord, may I presume,\n\nPoor worm that I may speak again,\n\nThe dogs for hunger were undone,\n\nAnd for the crumbs ther were right fain;\nGrant me one crumb that then doth fall\n\nFrom thy blest children's table Lord,\n\nThat I may be refresh'd withal,\n\nIt will me help enough afford.\n\nThe gates of mercy now are clos'd,\n\nAnd thou canst hardly enter in;\n\nIt is not so as thou supposed.\n\nFor thou art deadly sick in sin.\n\n'Tis true indeed my lord most meek,\n\nMy sore and sickness I do feel;\n\nYet thou the lamb dost truly seek,\n\nWho lay long at Bethseda's pool,\n\nOf that thee never sougbt,\n\nLike to the poor Samaritan;\n\nWhom thou into thy fold has brought,\n\nEven as thou didst the widow of Nain:\n\nMost gracious God, didst thou not bid\n\nAll that were weary come to thee?\n\nBehold I come! even o'erload\n\nWith sin, baye mercy upon me.\n\nThe issues of thy soul are great,\n\nThou art both leprous and unclean,\n\nTo be with me thou art not fit,\n\nGo from me then, let me alone.\n\nLet me thy garments once but touch,\n\nMy bloody issue will be whole,\n\nIt will not cost the very much,\n\nTo save a poor distressed soul.\n\nSpeak thou the word I shall be whole,\n\nOne look of thee shall do me good,\n\nSave now good lord my silly soul,\nBought with thine own most precious blood.\n\nLet me alone, none of my blood,\n\nWas ever shed for such as thee,\n\nIt was my mercy patience good.\n\nWhich from damnation set them free.\n\nIt is confest thou hast been just,\n\nAltho' thou had condemned me;\n\nBut O! thy mercies still do last,\n\n\u03a4\u03bf save the soul that trust in thee:\n\nLet me not then condemned be.\n\nMost humbly Lord, I thee request,\n\nOf sinners all none, like me,\n\nSo much the more thy praise shall last,\n\nThy praising me is profite,\n\nMy saints shall praise me evermore:\n\nIn sinners I have no delight,\n\nSuch sacrifice I do abhor.\n\nThen she unto the Lord did say,\n\nAt footstool of thy grace I'll lie;\n\nSweet Lord my God say me not nay,\n\nFor if I perish here I'll die,\n\nPoor silly wretch then speak no more,\n\nThy faith poor soul thath saved thee;\n\nEnter thou into my glory,\n\nAnd rest through all eternity.\n\nHow soon our Saviour these words said,\n\nA long white robe to her was given;\n\nAnd then the angels did her lead\n\nForthwith within the gates of heaven;\nA laurel crown set on her head.\n\nSpangled with rubies and with gold;\n\nA bright white palm she always had,\n\nGlorious it was for to behold;\n\nHer face did shine like to the sun,\n\nlike threads of gold her hair hung down\n\nHer eyes like lamps unto the moon:\n\nOf precious stones rich was her crown,\n\nAngels and saints did welcome her,\n\nThe heavenly choir did sing rejoice;\n\nKing David with his harp was there;\n\nThe silver bells gave a great noise.\n\nSuch music and such melody,\n\nWas neither ever heard or seen,\n\nWhen this poor saint was plac'd so high\n\nAnd of her sins made freely clean;\n\nBut then when thus she was possest,\n\nAnd looked back on all her fears,\n\nAnd that she was come to her rest,\n\nFree'd from her sins, and all her tears,\n\nShe from her head did take the crown,\n\nGiving all praise to Christ on high,\n\nAnd at his feet she laid it down,\n\nFor that the Lamb hath made her free,\n\nNow doth she sing triumphantly,\n\nAnd shall rejoice for evermore\n\nO'er death and hell victoriously,\n\nWith lasting spirits laid in store.\n\nFINIS.\n\nThis work was published before January 1, 1931, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.\n\nPublic domainPublic domainfalsefalse","title":"Wife of Beith (4)","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":4690}