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, etc. To the Tune of, Flying Fame, etc. Licenced according to Order.  
 depiction of man in coffin  The Writer speaketh. 

AS I lay slumbering 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,  
Upon 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 esteemed 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 turned,  
Thou in a coffin, in a shrine art urned:  
For thy rich clothes thou hast a winding-sheet,  
Thy high-built roof now with thy mouth doth meet.   

But I poor soul was framed a noble creature,  
In likeness to my God, of heavenly feature,  
But by thy sin while we on earth abode,  
I am made fouler than a loathsome toad.   

O wretched flesh with me that art forlorn,  
That well may wish thou never hadst been born;  
Thou wouldst 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 carcase 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 senseless, cold, and dead,  
Cease thou to say the fault was all in me,  
When I will prove the fault-w●… must in thee:   

Thou sayest 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, framed 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 divided,  
And by the soul the body should be guided.   

The body of itself no ill hath known,  
If I did what thou didst, 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 tore me in my shrine;  
And therefore far 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 controlled,  
Strait the world's vanities did me withhold.   

So thou of me didst gain the upperhand,  
Inthralling me in worldly pleasures band:  
That thou and I eternal shall be drowned  
In hell, when glorious saints in heaven are crowned.   

But flattering fancy did thy mind so please,  
Thou never thought'st to die 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 scourged with mine own rod,  
We both stand guilty 'fore the face of God:  
Both are in fault, and yet not equally,  
The greatest burden, soul, on thee doth lie.   

No wit so mean, but this for truth it knows,  
That where most gifts of virtue God bestows,  
There is most due, and aught repaid 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 denied,  
When for one drop of water he so prayed:  
Thy question, senseless body, wanteth reason,  
Redemption now is hopeless, out of season:   

Vile body go, and rot in bed of clay,  
Until the great and general judgement-day;  
Then shalt thou rise, and be with me condemned,  
To hell's hot lake for ever without end.   

So far 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 than 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 than is the crawling toad:  
Ten thousand torments thou shalt now abide,  
When thou in flaming sulphur shalt be fried.   

Thou art a soldier of our camp enrouled,  
Never henceforth shalt thou the light behold:  
The pains prepared 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 withjoy did laugh and roar:  
Those devils did seem more black than 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 than they breathed out,  
And from their nostrils snakes crawled 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 dragged him in, who grievously did howl.   

Then strait methought appeared in my sight,  
A beauteous young man clothed all in white:  
His face did shine most glorious to behold,  
Wings like the rainbow, 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 music seemed then to play,  
And in a cloud he vanished quite away.   

Awaking strait, 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 restingplace.   

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 Pie-corner and London-bridge: