The Muses Sacrifice :: :: University of Virginia Library

Lord , in thy Loue, let me be none of them
that loue but in a Calme; a time beleeue;
But when a Storme ariseth, doe blaspheme;
and with infernall S'prits, thy Sp'rit doe grieue.

Thus what I need, I craue; but what I feare
thou know'st (deare Lord:) I feare I am too bold
To seeke thy loue, because I doe appeare
no correspondence with thy loue to hold:

For, he that merits hate (Lord) how can he
straight looke for loue? & who hath shame deseru'd
Seeke for immortall glory? or, to be
from shame and paine, which he deserues, preseru'd?

He moueth but his Iudge to iustest wrath
that, being faulty, lookes he him should cleare,

Without meete satisfaction for the scath
which he hath done; all these my hopes doe feare.

For, he that is to shame and death condemn'd
small reason hath to looke for high'st respect;
If but his death by grace might be redeem'd,
in sense, it should be all he could expect.

But why, ô why, doe I now call to minde
what I haue done, to make my feares more rife?
Death I deserue; yet seeke I life to finde,
that liue but to offend the Lord of life.

Can I still vexe my Iudge, yet looke for grace?
and still prouoke my King, yet seeke his loue?
Nay, still but buffet my sweete Iesus face,
and yet expect he should my Iesus proue?

Alas! how should he? much lesse how can I
such fauour seeke, that so his Fauour wrongs?
Can wrong expect such right, in equitie?
ô no: for, vengeance to the same belongs!

Vengeance belongs to wrongs so great, so plaine,
as so to wrong a MAIESTIE so great!
Then Feare perswades me I seeke grace in vaine;
yet Grace makes hope some Fauour to intreat.

I haue neglected to fore-see the woes
that follow sinne, and now would grace for-goe:

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I oft haue taken mortall ouerthrowes,
yet scarse haue felt a mortall ouerthrow.

I haue encreast my scars that feared not
to adde still sinne to sinne, and graue to light:
Fresh Wounds haue opened those before I got,
to make the Cure most hard, or curelesse quite.

And what the Balmes of Grace had clos'd before,
I, through the itch of sinne, haue opened wide:
Which, through corruption, now are growne so sore
that scarse I can so sore a Cure abide.

The Skinne, which growing ouer, hid my Wounds
through breaking out of the corruption, gape;
For sinne the grace once granted quite confounds:
so that I feare I hardly can escape.

For, if the righteous man shall perish in
his sinne committed: how much more then shall
Repentant sinners turning eft to sinne?
the thought whereof more grieues me then my fall.

The newly dead, Christ quickly rais'd to life;
but he must groane in spirit, weepe, cry and pray,
Yer Lazarus be rais'd: for, mortall strife
Death made with life, to leaue so long a Prey:

So, it is in Regeneration; for,
the lesse the Soule's defil'd with sinnes delight,

And the more she the least sinne doth abhorre;
the lesse winde of Gods Sp'rit reuiues that sp'rit.

What shall I doe? I can but sinne (deare Lord)
if so; thou canst but plague, yea, plague with Death:
Sith still I sinne then, in thought, deed, and word,
cut off my sinne, or els abridge my breath:

For, Breath it is that kindles sinne in me
with blowing at the coales of damn'd desires;
These, through my banefull breath, still raging be;
and quite consume the grace that me inspires.

Then, if I did not breathe, I should not sinne;
yet should I loose my breath e'er sinne bewaile
I by that losse should but damnation winne:
then, let me rue my faults yer Breath doth faile:
But, if thou wilt that I should longer liue,
Let me no longer sinne, or longer grieue.