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EBBA 30083

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
Glad tydings from Heaven:
OR
Christs glorious Invitation to all Sinners, wherein is described the
misery of his Manhood, and the bitternesse of his Passion endured for Man:
With sundry reasons inferred, to move Worldlings to repentance.
To the tune of the Dolefull Shephard, or Sandy Soyle.

AWake from sinne, vaine man awake,
Unto repentance thee betake:
Thy Saviour calls, O come to me,
And I will ease and comfort thee.

My Father as the Scripture saith,
Delights not in a Sinners death:
And therefore hath sent me his Sonne,
That sinners all to me might come.

Then come to me, tis onely I,
Can helpe thee in thy misery:
Tis I can wash thy foule offence,
And cloath thy soule with innocence.

And that thou maist assured be,
What paines I have suffred for thee;
Attend give eare, and listen well
Unto the things that I shall tell.

First being God, I did become,
A man, nay worse, a scorne to some,
Was lovd of some, despisd of most,
Still on the sea of sorrowes tost.

No sooner to this world I came,
But Herod would my life have tane,
And wheresoever I did flye,
I was not free from misery.

Cold hunger, thirst, sad griefe, and paine,
And all that frailty doth sustaine,
My humane nature brought to me,
All this I felt, O man, for thee.

Sad sighes, deepe grones & sweating blood,
I did endure to doe thee good:
So terrible my torment was,
That once I would have had it passe.

And to conclude the Tragedy,
Of all my wofull misery:
The Jewes at their high Priests command
Did come and take me out of hand.

Next was I brought to Caiphas Hall,
There to appeare before them all:
And at length decreed it was,
That I must suffer on the Crosse.

But first they did there all agree,
With whips to scourge and punish me,
Which being done, then presently,
I was conveyd to Calvary.

Where to augment my misery,
They nailed me upon a Tree:
And cause I should not want disgrace,
Betweene two theeves I had my place.

And being crowned with thornes sharpe,
Each one would flouting at me carpe.
And he was counted there the best,
That could deride and mocke me most.

This done to make an end of all,
They gave mee vinegar and gall:
And lastly they did pierce my side,
Whence blood and water did proceed.

The second part. To the same tune.

THese torments, Man, I did endure,
That thou mightst be for ever sure,
Of life, and come with Faith to me,
That I from sinne might set thee free.

Then come with Faith doe not despaire,
Although thy sinnes as crimson are,
Yet hath my Blood them washed so,
That they shall be as white as snow.

If thou a murtherer hast beene,
Or given to adulterous sinne:
View David who was both and yet
Repenting he did mercy get.

If sottish drunken thou hast beene,
Or stained with incestuous sinne:
See Lot who fell into that lust,
Yet by Gods love was counted just.

If thou by cursed Perjury,
Hast cast thy soule in jeopardy:
With Peters teares wash off thy sinne,
And thou with him shalt mercy winne.

If thou (of knowledge destitute)
My Church didst ever persecute:
Doe not despaire, but looke on Paul,
And then for mercy to me call.

The Prodigall that thriftlesse sonne,
Who headlong into vice did runne,
Was not cast off in misery,
When once Peccavi, he did cry.

Mary along time went astray,
Yet did her teares wash sinne away:

She thought it not too late at last,
Downe at my feet her selfe to cast.

The Theefe that all his life had spent,
In sinne not meaning to repent,
Did at the length obtaine mercy,
Cause he with penitence did dye.

Tis not the greatnesse of the crime,
Should make thee thinke it out of time,
For to repent and on me call:
My passion can suffice for all.

For all that sorrow for their sinne,
And never more delight therein:
For those that truly will repent,
For such my Father hath me sent.

Then what soere thou be that art,
With sinne polluted, cleanse thy heart:
Come with a contrite soule to me,
And I thine Advocate will be.

Come, come, my Fathers wrath prevent,
Leave off your folly and repent:
O come to me I call againe,
Let not my Passion be in vaine.

Now those that fondly doe presume,
Till utmost gaspe, in sinne to runne;
Let them assure themselves of this,
That of my mercy they may misse.


FINIS.
London Printed for C.W.

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