XIV. Sir Nicholas Breton

From “The Soules Harmony.”

LORD, when I thinke how I offend thy will,

And know what good is in obedience to it,

And see my hurt, and yet continue still

In doing ill, and cannot leaue to do it;

And then againe doe feele that bitter smart

That inward breeds of pleasures after-paine,

When scarce the thought is entred in my heart

But it is gone, and sinne gets in againe:

And when againe the act of sinne is past,

And that thy grace doth call me backe againe,

Then in my teares I runne to thee as fast,

And of my sinnes and of myselfe complayne:

What can I doe but cry, Sweet Iesus, saue me?

For I am nothing but what thou wilt haue me.

MY heauenly Loue, from that high throne of thine,

Where gracious mercy sits in glorie’s seat,

In that true pity of thy power diuine,

That dries the teares that mercy doe entreat,

Behold, sweet Lord, these bleeding drops of loue

That melt my soule in sorrow of my sinne;

And let these showres some drops of mercy moue,

That in my griefe my comfort may beginne:

Let not despaire confound my praying hope,

That begs an almes at thy mercie’s gate;

But let thy grace thy hand of bountie ope,

That comfort yeelds which neuer comes too late:

That in the cure of my consuming griefe

My ioyful soule may sing of thy reliefe.