The spear that pierc'd his side, the writing pen,
Christ's blood the ink, red ink for prince's name,
The vailes great breach, the miracles for men,
The sight is show of them that long dead came
From their old graves, restored to living fame.
And that last, signet passing all the rest,
Our souls discharg'd by consummatum est.
Here endless joy is their perpetual cheer
Their exercise, sweet songs of many parts.
Angels their choir, whose symphony to hear