Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
Prison-Pietie | ||
Bad at Best.
My Practice gives the lye to my Profession;I give too large a rein unto my Will;
I do not grieve enough for my Transgression,
But do delight in contemplating ill.
I wish for Heav'n, but tread the path of Hell;
I love the day, but more the deeds o'th' night:
Little I have, yet that I use not well;
I covet much, but covet not aright.
Good deeds ill done, run clearly 'gainst the byas;
Wishes and words are winds, our deeds must try us.
My ways are evil, sin doth too much attend them;
Open mine eyes, O Lord, and I shall mend them.
Prison-Pietie | ||