Winterfylleth A Thousand Winters
This at least behoves every man
That he his soul's course should heed
How awful it will be
When death arrives
The kinship sunders
Those that were together
Body and soul
Departed from men, the spirit
In punishment or glory, death not discern
While him here in the world
An earth vessel remains
The anxious ghost shall come
Always after seven nights
A soul, to find the body
That, from which it had been taken
Then shall call so sad
With a cold voice
The spirit to that dust
Words of a soul departed
After it, from its body were led
"Why hast thou tortured me? Foulness of earth!"
"Why dost thou torture me? I art not the food of worms!"
"I within thee dwelt and I might not go
From, where with flesh
I had invested with me
Thy sinful lusts oppressed
So that to me full oft it seemed
That it were a thousand winters
To thy death-day."
