University of Virginia Library

Lord here my prayre and let my crye passe
Vnto the lord withowt impediment.
Do not from me torne thy mercyfull fase,
Vnto my sellff leving my government.
In tyme off troble and aduersitye
Inclyne to me thyn ere and thyn Intent;
And when I call help my necessitye;
Redely graunt th'effect off my desyre.
Thes bold demaundes do plese thy maiestye,
And ek my Case such hast doth well require.
Ffor like as smok my days bene past awaye,
My bonis dryd vp as forneis with the fyre.
My hert, my mynd is wytherd vp like haye,
By cawse I have forgot to take my brede,
My brede off lyff, the word off trowthe, I say.
And ffor my plaintfull syghes, and my drede,
My bonis, my strenght, my very force of mynde
Cleved to the flesh, and from thi spryte were flede,
As dispairate thy mercy for to fynd.
So made I me the solaine pelycane,
And lyke the owle that fleith by propre kynd
Lyght of the day and hath her sellff betane
To ruyne lyff owt of all companye.
With waker care that with this wo bygane,
Lik the sparow was I solytarye,
That sittes alone vnder the howsis effes.
This while my foes conspird continually,
And did provoke the harme off my dises.
Wherfor lik ashes my bred did me savour,
Of thi just word the tast myght not me ples;
Wherfore my drynk I temperd with lycour
Off weping teris that from myn Iyes do rayne.
By cause I know the wrath off thy furour,
Provokt by ryght had off my pride disdayne;
For thou didst lyfft me vp to throw me downe,
To tech me how to know my sellff agayne;
Wherby I knew that helples I shold drowne.
My days lik shadow declyne and I do drye;
And the for euer eternite doth crowne;
World withowt end doth last thy memorye.
Ffor this frailte that yokyth all manekynd,
Thou shallt awake, and rue this misery,
Rue on Syon, Syon that as I ffynd
Is the peple that lyve vnder thy law;
For now is tyme, the tyme at hand assynd,
The tyme so long that doth thy servantes draw
In gret desyre to se that plesant day,
Day off redeming Syon ffrom sins Aw.
Ffor they have ruth to se in such dekay
In dust and stones this wrechid Syon lowr.
Then the gentilles shall dred thy name alway;
All erthly kinges thy glory shall honour,
Then, when thi grace this Syon thus redemith,
When thus thou hast declard thy myghty powre.
The lord his servauntes wishis so estemith
That he hym tornth vnto the poores request.
To our discent thys to be wrytten semith,
Off all confortes as consolation best;
And thei that then shalbe regenerate
Shall praise the lord therfore both most and lest.
Ffor he hath lokt from the heyght off his astate,
The lord from hevyn in yerth hath lokt on vs,
To here the mone off them that ar algate
In fowle bondage, to lose and to discus
The sonns off deth owt from theire dedly bond,
To gyve therby occasion gracius,
In this Syon hys holy name to stond
And in Hierusalem hys laudes lastyng ay.
When in one chirche the peple off the lond
And remes bene gaderd to serve, to lawd, to pray
The lord aboue so just and mercyfull.
But to this samble runnyng in the way
My strenght faylyth to rech it at the full.
He hath abrigd my days, they may not dure,
To se that terme, that terme so wonderfull,
Altho I have with herty will and Cure
Prayd to the lord; take me not lord away
In myddes off my yeres, tho thyn euer sure
Remayne eterne, whom tyme can not dekay.
Thow wrowghtst the yerth, thy handes thevyns did mak;
Thei shall peryshe and thou shalt last alway,
And althinges age shall were and ouertake
Like cloth, and thou shalt chainge them lik aparell,
Tourne, and translate, and thei in worth it tak.
But thou thy sellff the sellff remaynist well
That thou wast erst, and shalt thi yeres extend.
Then sins to this there may nothing rebell,
The gretest confort that I can pretend
Is that the childerne off thy servantes dere
That in thy word ar gott, shall withowt end
Byfore thy face be stablisht all in fere.