Ditty Deep sighs, records of my unpitied grief, Memorials of my true though hopeless love, Keep time with my sad thoughts, till wished relief My long despairs for vain and causeless prove. Yet if such hap never to you befall, I give you leave, break time, break heart and all. Lord, thus I sin, repent, and sin again, As if Repentance only were in me Leave for new Sin; thus do I entertain My short time, and Thy Grace, abusing Thee And Thy long suffering, which, though it be Ne'er overcome by Sin, yet were in vain If tempted oft: thus we our Errors fee Before our Punishment, and so remain Without Excuse: and, Lord, in them 'tis true Thy Laws are just; but why dost Thou distrain Ought else for life save life? That is Thy due, The rest Thou mak'st us owe, and may'st to us As well forgive. But, oh! my sins renew, Whilst I do talk with my Creator thus. |
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