Close ×

Search EBBA

Advanced Search

EBBA 31302

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
[St. BERNARDS Vision: OR,
A brief Discourse (Dialogue wise) between the soul and body of a damned man, newly deceased,
laying the faults one upon the other: with a speech of the Devils in Hell.
To the Tune of, Flying Fame.]

The Writer speaketh.
AS I lay slumbring in my bed one night,
A fearful vision did me sore affright,
Methought I saw a soul departed late,
By it the body in a poor estate.

Wailing with sighs, the soul aloud did cry,
Upon the body in the Coffin by:
And thus the soul to it did make her moan,
With grievous sobs, and many a bitter groan

The soul speaketh.
O sinful flesh, which now so low doth lie;
Whom yesterday the world esteemd so high,
It was but yesterday the world was thine,
The Sun is set which yesterday did shine.

Where is thy train that did attend on thee,
Where is thy mirth, where is thy jollity?
where are thy sumptuous buildings & thy treas[ure]
Thy pleasant walks wherein thou tookest plea[sure.]

Gone is thy train, thy mirth to mourning turn['d,]
Thou in a Coffin, in a shrine art urnd:
For thy rich cloaths thou hast a winding-shee[t,]
thy high-built roof now with thy mouth doth [meet.]

But I poor soul was framd a noble creatur[e,]
In likeness to my God, of heavenly featur[e,]
But by thy sin while we on earth above,
I am made fouler then a loathsom Toad.

O wretched flesh with me that art forlorn,
That well may wish thou never hadst been b[orn:]
Thou wouldest never to any one agree,
For which we evermore shall damned be.

I am, and must for ever be in pain,
No tongue can tell the torments I sustain,
But thou and I we must descend to hell,
Where we in frying flames must ever dwell.

It was thy pride, deceit, and luxury,
Hath brought these torments both on me and thee;
thy wife, thy children, friends whom thou didst trust
Do loath thy carrass lying in the dust.

The book of God, which is both true and sure,
Witness at large what sinners shall endure;
Thou that within the bed of earth art laid,
Arise, and answer to the words I said.

The Body speaketh.
I know thee well my soul which from me fled,
Which left my body senceless, cold, and dead,
Cease thou to say the fault was all in me,
When I will prove the fault was most in thee.

Thou sayst that I have led thee oft astr[ay],
And from well-doing drawn thee quite away:
But if the flesh the spirits power can move,
The fault is thine as I will plainly prove.

God you do know created you most fair,
And of celestial knowledge gave you share:
I was your servant, framd of earth and clay.
You to command and I for to obey.

Twas in your power for to restrain my will,
And not to let me do these things were ill:
The bodies works are from the soul derived,
And by the soul the body should be guided.

The body of it self no ill hath known,
If I did what thou didst, the guilts thine own,
For without thee, the body resteth dead,
The soul commands, it rests upon thy head.

So to conclude, thy guilt exceedeth mine,
O how the worms do tare me in my shrine;
And therefore fare thee well poor sinful soul,
Thy trespasses pass mine, though they are foul.

MOst wretched flesh which in the time of life,
Was foolish, idle, vain, and full of strife:
Though of thy substance thou did speak to me,
I do confess I should have bridled thee.

But thou through love of pleasure foul and ill,
Still me resisted and would have thy will:
When I would thee, O dody, have contrould,
Straight the worlds vanities did me with-hold.

So thou of me didst gain the upper hand,
Inthralling me in worldly pleasures band:
That thou and I eternal shall be drownd
in hell, when glorious saints in heaven are crownd

But flattering fancy did thy mind so please,
Thou never thoughtst to dye till death did cease:
This was thy fault, and cur[s]ed was our fate,
Which we repent, but now, alas too late.

The body speaketh.
O now I weep, being scourgd with mine own rod
We both stand guilty fore the face of God:
Both are in fault, and yet not equally,
The greatest burthen, soul, on thee doth lye.

No wit so mean, but this for truth it knows,
That where most gifts of vertue God bestows:
There is most due, and ought repayed be,
And unto this theres none but will agree.

But foolishly thou yieldest unto me,
And to my v[a]in desires didst soon agree:
But oh, I knew not at the latter hour,
But thou and I shall find a death most sure,

I greatly fear an ever-lasting fire,
Yet one thing more I do of thee desire:
Hast thou been yet among the fiends of Hell,
Is no hopes left that we with Christ may dwell.

The Soul speaketh,
False flesh remember Dives was denay'd,
[W]hen for one drop of water he so prayd:
Thy question, senceless body, wanteth reason,
Redemption now is hopeless, out of season.

Vile body go, and rot in b[e]d of clay,
Until the great and gener[a]l judgement day:
Then shalt thou rise, and be with me condemnd,
To Hells hot lake for ever without end.

So fare thee well I will no longer stay,
Hark how the fiends of Hell call me away:
[T]he loss of heavenly joys tormenteth me,
More then all tortures that in Hell can be.

The Devil speaketh.
Ho, are you come, whom we expected long
Now we will make you sing another song:
Howling and yelling still shall be your note,
And moulted Lead be poured down your throat.

Such horror we do on our servants load,
Now thou art worse then is the crawling toad:
[T]en thousand torments thou shalt now abide,
When thou in flaming Sulphre shalt be fryd.

Thou art a Souldier of our Camp enrould.
Never henceforth shalt thou the light behold:
The pa[i]ns prepard for thee no tongue can tell,
Welcome, O welcome, to the pit of Hell.

The W[riter Speaketh.]
[At] this the groaning soul did weep [most] sore,
[A]nd then the fiends with joy did laugh and roar:
[T]hose devils did seem mo[r]e black then pitch or night
Whose horrid shapes did sorely me affright.

Sharp steeled forks each in their hands did bear
Tusked their teeth like crooked mattocks were
Fire and brimstone then they breathed out,
And from their nostrils Snakes crawld all about.

Foul filthy horns on their bla[c]k brows they wore,
Their nails were like the tushes of a Boar:
Those fiends fast bound this wretched soul,
And dragd him in, who grievously did howl.

Then straight methought appeared in my sight,
A beautious young-man c[l]oathed all in white:
His face did shine most glorious to behold,
Wings like the Rain-bow, and his hair like gold:

With a sweet voice, All hail, all hail, quoth he,
Arise and write what here thou now dost see:
Most heavenly musick seemed then to play,
And in a cloud he vanisht quite away.

Awaking straight, I took my pen in hand,
To write those lines the young-man did command,
And so abroad into the world it sent,
T[ha]t each good Christian may in time repent.

Then let us fear the Lord both night and day,
Preserve our souls and bodies we thee pray:
God grant we may so run this mortal race,
That we in heaven may have a resting-place.

Preserve the King, the Queen, and Progeny,
The Clergy, Counsel, and Nobility:
P[e]rserve our soul and bodies I thee pray,
Amen, with me let all good Christians say.


FINIS.
Printed for J. Wright, J. Clar[k], W. Thackeray, and T, Passinger.

View Raw XML