Yet, for I threatened oft the siege to raise,

Not simpering all mine age,

Thou often didst with academic praise

Melt and disolve my rage.
I took Thy sweetened pill, till I came near;
I could not go away, nor persevere.

Yet lest perchance I should too happy be
In my unhappiness,

Turning my purge to food, Thou throwest me
Into more sicknesses.

Thus doth Thy power cross-bias me, not making
Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking.
Now I am here, what Thou wilt do with me

None of my books will show:

I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree;

For sure then I should grow To fruit or shade: at least some bird would trust Her household to me, and I should be just.

Yet, though Thou troublest me, I must be meek;
In weakness must be stout;
Well, I will change the service, and go seek
Some other master out.

Ah, my dear God! though I am clean forgot,
Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not.

REPENTANCE

LORD, I confess my sin is great

Great is my sin. O! gently treat
With Thy quick flower, Thy momentary bloom;
Whose life still pressing

Is one undressing,

A steady aiming at a tomb.

Man's age is two hours' work, or three;
Each day doth round about us see.
Thus are we to delights: but we are all
To sorrows old,

If life be told

From what life feeleth, Adam's fall.

O let Thy height of mercy then
Compassionate short-breathed men,
Cut me not off for my most foul transgression:
I do confess

My foolishness:

My God, accept of my confession.

Sweeten at length this bitter bowl, Which Thou hast poured into my soul; Thy wormwood turn to health, winds to fair weather:

For if Thou stay,

I and this day,

As we did rise, we die together.

When Thou for sin rebukest man, Forthwith he waxeth woe and wan: Bitterness fills our bowels; all our hearts Pine, and decay,

And drop away,

And carry with them the other parts.

But Thou wilt sin and grief destroy; That so the broken bones may joy, And tune together in a well-set song, Full of His praises

Who dead men raises.

Fractures well cured make us more strong.

FAITH

LORD, how couldst Thou so much appease

Thy wrath for sin, as when man's sight was dim, And could see little, to regard his ease,

And bring by Faith all things to him?

Hungry I was, and had no meat:
I did conceit a most delicious feast;
I had it straight, and did as truly eat,
As ever did a welcome guest.

There is a rare outlandish root,
Which when I could not get, I thought it here:
That apprehension cured so well my foot,
That I can walk to heaven well near.

I owed thousands and much more: I did believe that I did nothing owe, And lived accordingly; my creditor Believes so too, and lets me go.

Faith makes me anything, or all That I believe is in the sacred story: And when sin placeth me in Adam's fall, Faith sets me higher in his glory.

If I go lower in the book

What can be lower than the common manger?
Faith puts me there with Him, who sweetly took
Our flesh and frailty, death and danger.

If bliss had lien in art or strength,
None but the wise and strong had gained it:
Where now by Faith all arms are of a length;
One size doth all conditions fit.

A peasant may believe as much

As a great clerk, and reach the highest stature. Thus dost Thou make proud knowledge bend and crouch,

While grace fills up uneven nature.

When creatures had no real light Inherent in them, Thou didst make the sun, Impute a lustre, and allow them bright:

And in this shew what Christ hath done.

That which before was darkened clean With bushy groves, pricking the looker's eye, Vanished away, when Faith did change the scene: And then appeared a glorious sky.

What though my body run to dust? Faith cleaves unto it, counting every grain, With an exact and most particular trust, Reserving all for flesh again.

PRAYER

PRAYER, the Church's banquet, Angel's age, God's breath in man returning to his birth, The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage, The Christian plummet sounding heaven and earth;

Engine against the Almighty, sinner's tower,

Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear, The six-days' world-transposing in an hour, A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well drest,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,

Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood,

The land of spices, something understood.

HOLY COMMUNION

NOT in rich furniture, or fine array,

NOT

Nor in a wedge of gold,

Thou, who from me wast sold,

To me dost now Thyself convey;

For so Thou shouldst without me still have been, Leaving within me sin :

But by the way of nourishment and strength,
Thou creep'st into my breast;

Making Thy way my rest,

And Thy small quantities my length; Which spread their forces into every part, Meeting sin's force and art.

Yet can these not get over to my soul,
Leaping the wall that parts

Our souls and fleshly hearts;
But as th' out-works, they may control
My rebel-flesh, and, carrying Thy name,
Affright both sin and shame.