University of Virginia Library

CHAP. XI. Morning Meditation, with sixteene sobs of a sorowfull spirit, which she used for ment all prayer, as also an addition of sixteene staues of uerse taken out of Peters complaint; which she usually sung and played on the winde instrument.

[A sorie wight the obiect of disgrace]

A sorie wight the obiect of disgrace,
The monument of feare, the map of shame,
The mirror of mishap, the staine of place,
The scorne of time, the infamie of fame,
An excrement of earth to heauen hatefull,
Iniurious to man, to God vngratefull.

[Sad subiect of my sinne hath stor'd my minde]

Sad subiect of my sinne hath stor'd my minde,
With euerlasting matter of complaint:
My throwes an endlesse alphabet doe finde,
Beyond the pangues that Ieremie doth paint.
That eies with errors may iust measure keepe:
Most teares I wish that haue most cause to weepe.

[Giue vent vnto the vapors of my brest]

Giue vent vnto the vapors of my brest,
That thicken in the brims of cloudy eies,
Where sin was hatch't let teares now wash the nest.
Where life was lost, recouer life with cryes:
My trespas foule, let not my teares be few:
Baptise my spotted soule in weeping dew,

[For gripes in all my parts doe neuer faile]

For gripes in all my parts doe neuer faile:
Whose onely league, is now in bartring paines:
What I engrosse, they traffique by retaile:
Making each others miserie their gaines:
All bound for euer prentices to care,
Whilst I in shop of shame trade sorrowes ware.

[My guiltie eie still seemes to see my sinne]

My guiltie eie still seemes to see my sinne:
All things characters are to spell my fall.
What eie doth read without heart rues within:
What heart doth rue to pensiue thought is gall,
Which when my thought would by my tongue digest,
My eares conuey it backe into my brest.

[For lif's a maze of countlesse straying waies]

For lif's a maze of countlesse straying waies:
Open to erring steps, and strowed with baits:
To winde weake senses into endlesse straies,
A loofe from vertues rough vnbeaten straits,
A flower, a play, a blast, a shade, a dreame,
A liuing death, a neuer turning streame.

[Else weeping eies resigne your teares to me]

Else weeping eies resigne your teares to me,
A sea will scantly rinse my ordur'd soule.
Huge horrors in high tides must drowned be.
Of euery teare my crime exacteth toule.
My staines are deepe: few drops take out none such,
Euen salue with sore, and most is not too much.

[Lest shame the liuery of offending mind]

Lest shame the liuery of offending mind,
The vgly shroud that ouer shadoweth blame,
The mulct at which foule faults are iustly fin'd,
The dampe of sinne, the common sluce of fame,
By which impostum'd tongues their humors purge,
Doe light on me: for I deserue thy scurge.

[For fawning vipers, dumbe till they had wounded]

For fawning vipers, dumbe till they had wounded,
With many mouthes do now vpbraid my harmes:
My sight was vail'd, till I my selfe confounded,
But now I see the disinchanted charmes,
Now can I cut th' anatomic of sinne,
And search with Linxes eyes what lies within.

[O beames of mercy beat on sorrowes cold]

O beames of mercy beat on sorrowes cold,
Powre suppling shewers on my parched ground,
Bring foorth the fruit of your due seruice vow'd,
Let good desires with like deserts be crownd,
Water yongue blooming vertues tender flowre,
Sin did all grace of riper growth deuoure.

[If Dauid night by night did bathe his bed]

If Dauid night by night did bathe his bed,
Esteeming longest dayes too short to mone:
Inconsolable teares if Anna shed,
Who in hir sonne hir solace had forgone:
Then I to dayes, to months, to weeks, to yeeres,
Do owe the hourely rent of stintlesse teares.

[Christ health of feuer'd soule, heauen of the mind]

Christ health of feuer'd soule, heauen of the mind,
Force of the feeble, nurse of infant loues,
Guide to the wandring foot, light to the blind,
Whom weeping winnes, repentant sorow moues,
Father in care, mother in tender hart,
Reuiue and saue me slaine with sinfull dart.

[Latar at pities gate I vlcered lie]

Latar at pities gate I vlcered lie,
Crauing the refuse crummes of childrens plate.
My sores I lay in view to mercies eye:
My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate.
The wormes of conscience that within me swarme,
Proue that my plaints are lesse than is my harme,

[Prone lookes, crost armes, bent knee, and contrite heart]

Prone lookes, crost armes, bent knee, and contrite heart,
Deepe sighs, thicke sobs, dew'd eies, and prostrate praiers,
Most humbly begge release of earned smart,
And sauing shrowd in mercies sweet repaires:
If Iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage,
Feares would dispaires, ruth breed a hopelesse rage.

[With mildnesse Iesu measure my offence]

With mildnesse Iesu measure my offence,
Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate,
Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense,
Let pittie temper thy deserued hate,
Let grace forgiue, let loue forget my fall:
With feare I craue, in hope I humblie call.

[Redeeme my lapse with ransome of thy loue]

Redeeme my lapse with ransome of thy loue,
Trauers th'inditement, rigors doome suspend,
Let frailtie fauour; sorrow succour moue.
Be thou thy selfe, though changeling I offend,
Tender my suite, clense this defiled den,
Cancell my debts, sweet Iesu say Amen.