The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/Complaining
Afflict my houre,
My inch of life: or let thy gracious power
Contract my houre,
That I may climbe and finde relief.
¶ Complaining.
Do not beguile my heart,
Because thou art
My power and wisdome. Put me not to shame,
Because I am
Thy clay that weeps, thy dust that calls.
Because thou art
My power and wisdome. Put me not to shame,
Because I am
Thy clay that weeps, thy dust that calls.
Thou art the Lord of glorie;
The deed and storie
Are both thy due: but I a silly flie,
That live or die
According as the weather falls.
The deed and storie
Are both thy due: but I a silly flie,
That live or die
According as the weather falls.
Art thou all justice, Lord?
Shows not thy word
More attributes? Am I all throat or eye,
To weep or crie?
Have I no parts but those of grief?
Let not thy wrathfull powerShows not thy word
More attributes? Am I all throat or eye,
To weep or crie?
Have I no parts but those of grief?
Afflict my houre,
My inch of life: or let thy gracious power
Contract my houre,
That I may climbe and finde relief.