 | A Divine Centvrie of Spirituall Sonnets
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Sonnet. LXXXV.
[Contrariwise, that horrible blacke pitte]
Contrariwise
, that horrible blacke pitte,
That ougly gaole of sorrowes without ende:
That filthie sincke to which foule sinners tende:
That dreadfull fiery lake where furies sitte:
That warde of madnesse and outrageous fitte:
where hiddeous diuilles condemned spirits rende:
Blacke desolations denne, where liues no frende
But tortur'd souls depriued of their witte:
That filthie dungeon whose chiefe musicke is
The grones, outcries, sobbes, and forlorne laments
of Parracydes, and men which liu'de amisse:
The bootlesse teares of too late penitents:
That loue of haeu'n, this loathsomnesse of hell,
The wayes of life and death directly tell.
| A Divine Centvrie of Spirituall Sonnets
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