Saint 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. To which is added, a speech of the devil's in Hell, &c. To the tune of, Flying fame, &c. 1663-1674? Approx. 10 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B05825 Wing S299A ESTC R183178 47012635 ocm 47012635 174600

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B05825) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 174600) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 2692:24) Saint 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. To which is added, a speech of the devil's in Hell, &c. To the tune of, Flying fame, &c. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. Printed by and for W.O. and are to be sold by the booksellers of Pye-corner and London-bridge., London, : [between 1663 and 1674] "Licensed according to Order." Contains 2 illustrations. Date of publication taken from Wing (2nd ed.) Reproduction of original in: University of Glasgow. Library.

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eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. Broadsides -- England -- 17th century. 2008-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 Sampled and proofread 2009-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
Saint BERNARD's 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. To which is added, A Speech of the Devil's in Hell, &c. To the Tune of, Flying Fame, &c. Licenſed according to Order.

depiction of man in coffin

The Writer ſpeaketh. AS I lay ſlumbring in my bed one night, A fearful villon did me for affright, Methought I ſaw a ſoul departed late, By it the body in a poor eſtate. Walling with ſighs, the ſoul aloud did cry, Vpon 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 eſteem'd 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 treaſure? Thy pleaſant walks wherein thou tookeſt pleaſure. Gone is thy train, thy mirth to mourning turn'd, Thou in a coffin, in a ſhrine art urn'd: For thy rich cloaths thou haſt a winding-ſheet, Thy high-built roof now with thy mouth doth meet. But I poor ſoul was fram'd a noble creature, In likeneſs to my God, of heavenly feature, But by thy ſin while we on earth abode, I am made fouler then a loathſom toad. O wretched fleſh with me that art forlorn, That well may wiſh thou never had'ſt been born; 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 carcaſs 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-w •… muſt in thee: Thou ſay'ſt that I have led thee oft aſtray, And from well-doing drawn thee quite away: But if the fleſh the ſpirit's 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, fram'd 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 body's works are from the ſoul devided, And by the ſoul the body ſhould be guided. The body of itſelf no ill hath known, If I did what thou did'ſt, the guilts thine own, For without thee, the body reſteth dead, The ſoul commands, it reſts upon thy head. So to conclude, thy guilt excee eth 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,

depiction of devils torturing a praying man

The Soul ſpeaketh. 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 body, have controul'd, Straight the world's 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 drown'd In hell, when glorious ſaints in heaven are crown'd. But flattering fancy did thy mind ſo pleaſe, Thou never thought'ſt to dye till death did ceaſe: This was thy fault, and curſed was our fate, Which we repent, but now, alas, too late. The Body ſpeaketh. O now I weep, being ſcourg'd 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 there's none but will agree. But fooliſhly thou yieldeſt unto me, And to my vain 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 everlaſting 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. Falſe fleſh remember Dives was denay'd, When for one drop of water he ſo pray'd: Thy queſtion, ſenceleſs body, wanteth reaſon, Redemption now is hopeleſs, out of ſeaſon: Vile body go, and rot in bed of clay, Vntil the great and general judgement-day; Then ſhalt thou riſe, and be with me condemn'd, To hell's hot lake for ever without end. So fare thee well, I will no longer ſtay, Mark how the fiends of hell call me away: The loſs of heavenly joys t rmenteth 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: Ten thouſand torments thou ſhalt now abide, When thou in flaming ſulphre ſhalt be fry'd. Thou art a ſouldier of our camp enroul'd, Never henceforth ſhalt thou the light behold: The pains prepar'd for thee no tongue can tell, Welcome, O welcome, to the pit of hell. The Writer ſpeaketh. At this the groaning ſoul did weep moſt ſore, And then the fiends with-joy did laugh and roar: Thoſe devils did ſeem more 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 crawl'd all about. Foul filthy horns on their black brows they wore, Their nails were like the ruſhes of a boar: Thoſe helliſh fiends faſt bound this wretched ſoul, And drag'd him in, who grievouſly did howl. Then ſtraight methought appeared in my ſight, A beautious young man cloathed 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, That 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, Preſerve our ſouls and bodies I thee pray, Amen, with me, let all good Chriſtians ſay.

London: Printed by and for W. O. and are to be ſold by the Bookſellers of Pye-corner and London-bridge: