Page:Cogitations upon death, or, The mirror of man's misery (1).pdf/12

For one small drop of cold water,
And yet it shall not granted be,
To cool their tongue in flaming fire;
This makes me dread when I shall die.
These whores who have no modestly,
Nor any shame, or saving grace,
But live in lust and lechery,
Hunting their prey in every place,
Their arms shall then be made embrace,
Both night and day continually,
The doleful flames of black darkness;
This makes me dread when I shall die.
These proud persons that brag & boast,
Of honour, wealth, and their great King,
But car'd not to dishonour Christ,
Rejecting saints belong to him;
These idols Christ shall put from him,
And cloath all most dolefully,
With long black robes of lasting shame;
This makes me dread when I shall die.
These covetous and worldly worms,
Who put their trust in their riches,
And will not deal the poor on alms,
When they stand crying at their gate;
Therefore in hell they shall be sure,
To cry out for recovery,
When there is none them to relieve;
This makes me dread when I shall die.