Marinda Poems and Translations upon Several Occasions [by Mary Monck] |
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Marinda | ||
III.
But what does yet my just Repentance moreEmbitter, oft I wept, and begg'd for ease
Of my delightful voluntary Pain,
And learn'd in pleasing Accents to complain:
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To bend a stubborn and obdurate Heart,
Which sometime melted at my Woes: 'Tis meet
That my repenting Tears shou'd wash me clean
From those black Stains, and that terrestrial Filth
Which from my Crimes my sullied Soul imbib'd
(Spotless infus'd) nor can it re-ascend
T'its native Heav'n, with such a Load oppress'd;
Unable its lost Beauty to resume
'Till form'd again, and a new Creature made,
By the same Power, that its first Being gave.
Marinda | ||