juliana hall – o my blacke soule lyrics
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oh my blacke soule! now thou art summoned
by sicknesse, death’s herald, and champion;
thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
treason, and durst not turne to whence hee is fled
or like a thiefe, which till death’s doome be read
wisheth himselfe deliver’d from prison;
but dam’d and hal’d to execution
wisheth that still he might be imprisoned
yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lacke;
but who shall give thee that grace to beginne?
oh make thysеlfe with holy mourning blacke
and red with blushing, as thou arе with sinne;
or wash thee in christ’s blood, which hath this might
that being red, it dyes red soules to white
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