![]() | The teares or lamentations of a sorrowfull Soule | ![]() |
If despaire molest thee.
Thou art my hope euen from my youth,& from my Mothers wombe my guide:
Why should I then despaire in truth,
but in thy mercies euer bide:
For thou O Lord wilt still protect,
with consolation thine elect.
![]() | The teares or lamentations of a sorrowfull Soule | ![]() |