 | A Divine Centvrie of Spirituall Sonnets
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Sonnet. LXXXI.
[Behold (by misaduenture) how the winde]
Behold
(by misaduenture) how the winde
From earth blowes dust and it in ayer scatter,
And if therefore the very smallest matter
Thine eye (the bodies Iewell in some kinde)
Doe but by chance appeach, will grieue and blind,
Vnlesse from thence it by good meanes you shatter:
So that smooth foe who cunningly can flatter,
And as a tempest rageth in his kind,
Moues dust our flesh, from earth vpraysde to bleare
Of our redemption the much better part,
Our soules (with charge of sinnes) to vexe and feare,
Blinded and grieu'd with earthly dust and smart.
To thine eyes (Lord) let our eyes open bee,
And shut from sinne, who sight blinds, blind makes see.
| A Divine Centvrie of Spirituall Sonnets
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