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My Lord, quoth ſhe, I do amend,
Lamenting for my former vice;
The poor thief, at the latter end,
For one word went to Paradiſe.

The thief heard never of my teachings,
My heavenly precepts and my laws;
But thou waſt daily at my preachings,
Both heard and ſaw, and yet miſknaws.

Maſter, quoth ſhe, the ſcripture ſhows,
The Jewiſh woman, who play'd the lown,
Conform unto the Hebrew laws,
Was brought to thee to be put down;
But nevertheleſs thou lett'ſt her go,
And mad'ſt the Phariſees afraid

Indeed, ſays Chriſt, it was right ſo,
And that my bidding was obey'd,
Woman, he ſaid, I may not caſt,
The children's bread to dogs like thee,
Although my mercies ſtill do laſt,
There's mercy here but none for thee.

But, loving Lord, may I preſume,
Poor worm, that I may ſpeak again,
The dogs for hunger were undone,
And of the crumbs they were right ſain.
Grant me one crumb that then doth fall,
From thy bleſt children's table Lord,
That I may be refreſh'd withal,
It will me help enough afford.
The gates of mercy now are clos'd,
And thou can'ſt hardly enter in;
It is not ſo as thou ſuppos'd,
For thou art deadly ſick in ſin.