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William Strachie [image: four circles inscribed with six petals surround the title]

Twas the Trumpe of death that blew My houre is come falle worlde adeiue Thy pleasures have betrayed mee soe That I to death untimelye goe x ffor Death's the punnishmt of sinne And of all creatures I have binne The most ingratefull wicked one That ere the heavens did shine upon

I have sin'd aganist Earth & heave Earlye by daye late in the Even All manner sinnes all manner wayes I have comitted in my dayes xx Hell and hell fire is my due O but deere Christ I hunbly sue Thy Blood may wash my rent soule not mercy and Judgment's thy delight

At which mercy gate I knocke Let sobes & sighes the same unlock Prostrate I fall, & begg for grace O doe not turne awaye thy face My crying sinnes beate at thy throne Once bowe the heaven's look downe upon A wretch more ovthonne with greif That beggs for mercye not for life

FINIS [image: four circles inscribed with six petals surround the word]