Holiness on the head,
    Light and perfection on the breast,
Harmonious bells below raising the dead
    To lead them unto life and rest.
            Thus are true Aarons drest.*

            Profaneness in my head,
    Defects and darkness in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
    Unto a place where is no rest :
            Poor priest ! thus am I drest.

            Only another head
    I have another heart and breast,
Another music, making live, not dead,
    Without whom I could have no rest :
            In Him I am well drest.

            Christ is my only head,
    My alone only heart and breast,
My only music, striking me e'en dead ;
    That to the old man I may rest,
            And be in Him new drest.

            So holy in my Head,
    Perfect and light in my dear Breast,
My doctrine tuned by Christ (who is not dead,
    But lives in me while I do rest),
            Come, people ;  Aaron's drest.

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