 | The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet |  |
[46] Sanctification
What medlye Linsy wolsye stuffe
Am I made of?
I had bene good, and ill enough,
If my desires had bene fulfill'd:
But God repell'd
The evill, and the good witheld.
Am I made of?
I had bene good, and ill enough,
If my desires had bene fulfill'd:
But God repell'd
The evill, and the good witheld.
My heart Thebaicke marble is,
Spotted like this,
With lusts, and divers vanityes:
All colours, but the virgin white,
Are there in sight,
Yet 'tis no object of delight.
Spotted like this,
With lusts, and divers vanityes:
All colours, but the virgin white,
Are there in sight,
Yet 'tis no object of delight.
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My God disdaines in it to dwell,
'Cause 'tis a cell,
As darke as an Abysse, or Hell,
And when on it I doe reflect,
I in't detect
Nothing but folly, and defect.
'Cause 'tis a cell,
As darke as an Abysse, or Hell,
And when on it I doe reflect,
I in't detect
Nothing but folly, and defect.
Lord dippe me in the purple flood,
Of thine own blood;
Then shall my ill bee turn'd to good,
And I seeme stuffe, though not so fine
Thy vest to line,
Yet, for thy pantoffles divine:
Of thine own blood;
Then shall my ill bee turn'd to good,
And I seeme stuffe, though not so fine
Thy vest to line,
Yet, for thy pantoffles divine:
And let my heart of spotted stone,
By lotion,
In rivers of thy Passion,
Turne white: so shalt thou banish quite,
Hardnes, and night,
And to dwell there, Thou shalt delight.
By lotion,
In rivers of thy Passion,
Turne white: so shalt thou banish quite,
Hardnes, and night,
And to dwell there, Thou shalt delight.
| The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | |