"As truly shall we meet again as that I now go before the terrible tribunal, at the thought whereof I tremble,
"Feeble and frail as a leaf in the autumn wind."
God hears the Soul, and hastens to answer it saying, Courage, poor Soul, thou shalt not be long in pain. Because thou hast served me in the world, thou shalt have part in my felicities.
And the soul, always rising, casts again a glance below, and beholds her body lying on the funeral bier.
"Farewell, my poor body, farewell! I look back yet once more, out of my great pity for thee."
BODY.
"Cease, then, dear Soul, cease to address me with golden words. Dust and corruption are unworthy of pity."
SOUL.
"Saving thy favor, O my body! thou art truly worthy, even as the earthen vessel that has held sweet perfumes."