University of Virginia Library

Here foloweth the songe of a woman shepherde that vnderstode well & hir songe profytes.

In cōsyder my pore humanyte.
Aboue the erthe borne with great wepynge.

87

I consydre my fragilete.
My harte is ouerprest with synnynge.
I consyder dethe wyll come verely.
To take my lyfe but the houre wote nat I.
I consydre the deuyll dothe watche me
The worlde and the flesshe on me warreth straytly
I consyder that myn ennemyes they bethe.
That wolde delyuer me fro me dethe to dethe.
I consydre the many trybulacyons:
Of this foule worlde wherof the lyfe is nat clene.
I consydre C. M. passyons
That we pore creatures dayly fall in.
I consydre the perfyte sentens of god & man.
That bothe euyll & gode iuge shall he.
I consyder the lenger I lyue the worse I am.
wherfore my consyence cryeth out on me.
I consydre for synne some dampned as the boke setth.
which are delyuered frome dethe to deth.
I consydre that wormes shall ete me.
My sorowfull body this is credable.
I consyder that synners shalbe.
At the Iugement of god moste dredable.
O ye virgyn mary aboue all thynges moste dylectable.
Haue mercy on me at that dredefull daye.
That shall be so meruelous & doutable.
whiche my pore soule greatly dothe fraye.
In you than I put my trust and faythe.
To saue me that I go nat frome dethe to dethe.
Prynce of heuen your meke cretor.
Cryeth you mercy/ to make a sethe.
And I purpose neuer to synne more
Nowe saue me without ende fro dethe to dethe.