Who illumineth mine eyes to see my salvation.
Trust. Fear ye not, shortly you shall have consolation,
If I were once grown in you to perfection,
Even thus goeth it always with the children of election.
Just. I will depart now; will ye go with me, Trust?
Trust. Yea, I must always associate the Just.
Cont. A psalm of thanksgiving first let us sing,
To the laud and praise of the immortal King.
[Here, if you will, sing "the man is blest that feareth God," &c.—Go out.