The third straine.
1
Lord turne thee to thy grace
That once thou shewedst to me
O saue me not for my good acts
I seeke, I sue to thee.
2
My soule vvhy dost thou faint?
And art vvith greefe soe prest?
My hart, my mind, vvhy doe you thus
Fret sore vvithin my brest.
3
Trust soule to god for aye,
And thou the time shalt see
When thou shalt thinke, & thanke him still
For health, & peace to thee.
4
For vvhy his vvrath doth last,
A space, and then doth slacke
But in his face, & grace for aye,
Thou canst not ioy long lacke.
5
Though gripes, and greefes full sore
Doe lodge vvith thee all night
Yet ioy, and grace shal be at hand
Ere that the day be light.
6
The lord is kind, and meeke
When vve doe make him greeue,
He is full slovve his vvrath to shevv,
Great grace he doth vs giue.
7
And loe vvhat loue good men
To their ovvne seede doe beare,
Like grace the lord doth shevve to such
As searue him in his feare.
3. Sighe.
O that I had vvings like a doue
(my svvete loue) that I might fly hence
to thee, & so be at rest both in mind, in
thought, in hart, in soule, and in mine vvhole.
