O Lord on whom I do depend,
behold my carefull heart:
And when thy will and pleasure is,
release me of my smart.
Thou seest my sorrowes what they are,
my griefe is know to thee:
And there is none that can remove,
or take the same from me.
But onely thou whose aid I creve
whose mercy still is prest,
To ease all those that come to thee,
for succour and for rest.
And sith thou seest my restless eyes,
my teares and grievous grone
Attend unto my suit O Lord,
mark well my plainte and mone.
For sin hath so inclosed me,
and compast me about:
That I am now remediless,
if mercy help not out.
For mortall man cannot release,
or mitigate this paine:
But even thy Christ, my Lord and God,
who for my sins was slaine.
Whose bloody wounds are yet to see,
though not with mortall eye,
Yet do thy Saints behold them all,
and so I trust shall I.
Thought sin doth hinder me a while,
when thou shalt see it good,
I shall enjoy the sight of him,
and see his wounds and blood.
And as thine Angels and thy Saints
do now behold the same,
So trust I to possesse that place,
with them to praise thy Name,
But whilst I live here in this vale,
where sinners do frequent
Assist me ever with thy grace,
my sins still to lament.
Lest that I tread the sinners trace,
and give them my consent,
To dwell with thim in wickedness,
whereto nature is bent.
Onely thy grace must be my stay,
lest that I fall down flat
And being down, then of my selfe
cannot recover that.
Wherefore this is yet once againe
my suit and my request
To grant me pardon for my sin,
that I in thee may rest.
Then shall my heart and tongue also
be instruments of praise:
And in thy Church and hose of Saints
sing Psalmes to thee alwaies.