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Prison-Pietie

or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London
 
 
 

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The Penitent.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Penitent.

Lord, I'm a sinner, and my sins increase
To such an unknown sum,
That should my rockie heart and eyes,
Nay, my whole Microcosm, a flood become,
And drown it self in Tears, 'twould not suffice
To name my score,
Not then to pay:
But, Lord, thy blood is my rich store,
Thou art the Patron of the Poor;
But all the Balsam of thy blood,
Alas, I know will do no good,
Unless I wash my griefs with Tears before.

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O thou whose sweet and pensive face
To laughter never gave a place,
Instruct mine eyes,
Without delay,
To melt away,
And then the less of Balsam will suffice.