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Poem by George Herbert


Judgement


Almightie Judge, how shall poore wretches brook
Thy dreadfull look,
Able a heart of iron to appall,
When thou shalt call
For ev'ry man's peculiar book?

What others mean to do, I know not well;
Yet I heare tell,
That some will turn thee to some leaves therein
So void of sinne,
That they in merit shall excell.

But I resolve, when thou shalt call for mine,
That to decline,
And thrust a Testament into thy hand:
Let that be scann'd.
There thou shalt finde my faults are thine. 



George Herbert


George Herbert's other poems:
  1. Sin's Round
  2. Love (Immortal Love, authour of this great frame)
  3. Charms and Knots
  4. Clasping of Hands
  5. The Temper


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