(46)
¶ Þe brennynge soule in helle hete,
Withouten ende wepe thoo.
Line 364
Allas, oure synnes don vs bete,
Þay say, 'wo, wo, wo!
Here is no remedie to gete.'
Þay walke in derkenesse to and fro,
Line 368
Þe stynk and derkenesse is so grete,
Allas, in þysternesse we go.
(47)
¶ God, that art shapere of al,
Of slyme of erthe þou me wroȝt.
Line 372
Wiþ þy blod principal,
Wonderly þou haste vs boȝt.
Þouȝ my body now rote smal,
My soule to my body shal be broȝt.
Line 376
Out of my graue, reyse me þou schal
To lyues man, and fayle noȝt,
(48)
¶ Blod and boon, flesche and felle.
Here my prayer: in parfitnesse
Line 380
At domesday comaunde my soule to dwelle
In Abrahamys bosum, in thy blisse,
Whenne þou shalt delyuere me fram syȝt of helle.
Þou breke þe ȝates of helle, ywisse,
Line 384
Þou souȝtest helle in peynes felle,
Ȝaf lyȝt to hem in grete bryȝtnesse.
(49)
¶ Alas, y may be schamed sore,
At domesday stonde in drede;
Line 388
I, to come so gret a Iuge byfore,
And shewe forþ no good dede,
Bote fardel of synnes gadred in store;
Þe fendes redy my rolle to rede,
Line 392
Þe countretayle to shewe, þe score,
Þe leste steppe þat euere y ȝede.
