The teares or lamentations of a sorrowfull Soule Set foorth by Sir William Leighton |
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| 6. | The sixt Lamentation in distresse. |
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 | The teares or lamentations of a sorrowfull Soule |  |
The sixt Lamentation in distresse.
Wherein the distressed detesteth the world and worldly things, and desireth heauen, and heauenly thinges.
1
My soule doth long & shall depend,for euer on God euerliuing:
God shall begin and make an end,
that hath giu'n all, yet euer giuing,
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2
I sigh and groane for to appeare,before his gratious mercy seate:
As thirst'h, the heart for water cleare.
so long I for thy mercy great.
3
I am quite tyred with my groanes,I faint vnder mine heauy loade:
Of miseries breaking all my bones,
laid on me iustly by my God.
4
O God the rocke of my whole strengthLord of mercy behould mine anguish
O graunt me helpe and ease at length,
I faint, I fall, I sigh, I languish.
5
Why do I daily weepe and mourne,and haue no comfort helpe nor ease:
Why do'st not heare, but from me turne,
why doe my woes and foes increase.
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Sith I do seeke thee vnfainedly,defend me, oh defend me in:
This dangerous time of misery,
laid iustly on me for my sinne.
7
Preserue me from men mercilesse,hard harted, bloody minded cruell:
Blesse me with thnie hid blessednes,
giue me thy fauour my soules iewell.
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8
The man of earth laies load on load,as on an Anuill stroake on stroake:
Within without, at home abroade.
mine head to heele, bowes with ye yoake
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They nip, they strip, they watch, they catch,they craue & raue, by hooke & crooke:
Flesh bloud & bones, they teare & cratch
on that they neither thinke nor looke.
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They wake they rake, they poll & pill,they face they brag, they boast dissemble
Each stone they turne to haue their will,
& make mine hart to quake & tremble.
11
I am reproach to neighbours all,I am ashamde men should mee see:
They scorne & laugh to see my fall,
but this mine hope doth comfort me.
12
That thou from them wilt set me freeand thee triumphant shall behould:
In shining throane of Maiestie,
where's neither hunger thirst nor cold.
13
No want nor sinne, nor ignomie,nor sickenes, death, nor deadly paine:
But fullnes, mirth, ioy, victory,
with thee in glory I shall raigne.
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14
And if it bee thy will O Lord,now after all this sturdy storme:
To my most troubled soule affoord,
thy peace and pittie me poore worme
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Free me frō death (that's Mors Gehenie'giue peace, ioy, rest that's transitory:
I take it as an earnest penny,
of perfect blisse and endlesse glory.
16
And i'le heere praise the men among,that they may see, marke and consider:
T'is thou canst only right our wrong,
and from all troubles vs deliuer.
17
Thou can'st and wilt vs saue & keepe,though much wee suffer in this life:
Thou art our Shepheard, we thy sheepe,
saue me from hate, enuy and strife.
18
So shall I also giue thee praise,my mouth continually thee laude:
My soule and inward parts alwaies,
thy wondrous workes shall still applaud
19
I will be glad and ioy in thee,reioyce yea, and againe reioyce:
Abiect though I, yet comfort me,
i'le praise thee with mind, heart, & voice.
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20
Awake therefore in time awake,preserue mee that I perrish not:
I am if thou do'st me forsake,
but as a dead man cleane forgot.
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And censured a cast away,among such as see me depriu'd:
Of present helpe, for thiese men say,
my soule can neuer be reuiu'd.
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One sorrow doth encrease another,all hope on earth turnes to distrust.
Of ayde frō neighbour, friend or brother
hide not thy face my God most iust.
23
Forget not mine extremities,Lord free me from infernall hells:
Of torments and of miseries,
which comes frō thee & from none els.
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my soule is beaten to pitts brim,my hart doth faint, my hands grow weak
My knees do faile mine eies grow dim,
my tongue is dumbe & cannot speake.
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And each part of my body vext,I dayly moane my miseries:
Looke on me Lord, I am perplext,
O ease my griefe & heare my cries.
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26
Though thou by Iustice made ye woūdand by correction grieu'd mine heart:
If thou wilt cure, salue soone is found,
with spirituall comfort ease my smart.
27
Do not with hould such thinges are goodwhich for thy children are ordain'd:
Turne thou thy face with Christ's bloud,
clense all the spots my sins hath stain'd.
28
Rise vp O Lord, rise vp I say,with thee doth loue & bounty raigne
I am throwne downe I thee obay,
therefore rise vp, raise me againe.
29
Although my sins like swords do cut,me from thy fauour and thy grace:
Let righteousnes of Christ be put,
to hide my sinnes before thy face.
30
Vnite me vnto thee againe,in such sort Lord, make me so fast:
That I with thee may still remaine,
and ioy in ioyes, that aine shall last.
FINIS.
| The teares or lamentations of a sorrowfull Soule | |