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Miscelanea

Meditations. Memoratiues. By Elizabeth Grymeston

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Domine ne in furore.
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Domine ne in furore.

VVhen my misdeeds, ô God,
may thee to anger mooue,
Amids the rigour of thy rage,
vouchsafe me not reprooue.
Nor when for my offences
thy chastisement must be,
In thy displeasure, ô deare Lord,
let it not light on me.
Thy mercies Lord I craue,
of strength I am bereft;
O salue the sorenesse, that my sinne
vpon my bones hath left.
My much aggrieued soule,
my sorrowes doth abound:
How long, O Lord, shall they endure,
or comfort be vnfound?
O turne thy selfe to me,
and rid my soule of paine,
Euen for thy mercies which exceed,
and euer doe remaine.
O hasten thee, O Lord,
to saue and set me free:
Amongst the dead (to their auaile)
there's none can thinke on thee.
And in the depth of hell,
where there is no redresse,
Who is it that will giue thee praise,
or vnto thee confesse?


My sighings for my sinnes
haue past in painfull wise,
And I each night will wash my bed
with teares of wailing eies.
My sight is vext with feare
of furie in thy rage,
O that my sinnes must be my foes
to weare me out in age.
Away, away from me,
all yee that are vniust:
Let him my wofull sound receaue,
in whom I put my trust.
That I with ioy may say,
how to my suites accord,
Vouchsafed hath to condiscend
my deare and louing Lord.
Let shame my foes befall,
and vexed let them be,
Their owne conuersion, or their shame,
Lord, let them quickly see.
Glory, ô God to thee,
and vnto Christ thy sonne,
As also to the holy Ghost,
let endlesly by done.