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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 or my laws,
But thou was daily at my preachings,
Both heard and law, and yet misknews.
Master, quoth she the scripture shews
The Jewish woman who played the loon,
Conform unto the Hebrew laws,
Wa brought to thee to be put down.
But nevertheless thou let her go,
And made the Pharisees afraid.
Indeed says Christ it was right so,
And that my bidding was obey’d.
Woman, said he, I may not cast
The childrens 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 I am, to speak again,
The dogs for hunger were undone,
And of the crumbs they were right fain,
Grant me one crumb that then doth fall
From the blest childrens table, Lord,
Thar I may be refresh’d withal,
It will me help enough afford.
The gates of mercy now are clos’d,
And thou canst hardly enter in;
It is not so as ye suppos’d
For thou art deadly sick in sin,