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They shall him curse unto his face,
because he hath them cast away,
Crying woe, woe, and willaway,
that ever we this day did see,
For we are soft for ever and aye,
this makes me dread when i shall die.
The precious blood of Jesus Christ,
they shall it curse with great disdain,
That bought so many thousand souls,
because no drop was shed for them.
To save them from that bitter pain,
Which by no craft now they can flee,
Nor yet by force of might or main,
this makes me dread when I shall die.
But Christ he will not suffer long,
them to blaspheme in his presence,
But soon will bid cast over them,
in the black vale of his vengeance;
And then lead them a way from thence,
and cast them in with that menzie;
Into that pit pf endless pain,
this makes me dread when I shall die.
Then Christ shall close the mouth of hell,
and bar them from the light of day,
