|
| Who was Gods partner here, and furnish'd thus |
| Half of that sacrifice which ransom'd us? |
| Though these things as I ride be from mine eye, |
| They're present yet unto my memory, |
| For that looks towards them; and thou look'st towards me, |
| O Saviour, as thou hangst upon the tree; |
| I turn my back to thee, but to receive |
| Corrections till thy mercies bid thee leave. |
| O think me worth thine anger, punish me, |
| Burn off my rust, and my deformity, |
| Restore thine Image, so much by thy grace, |
| That thou maist know me, and I'll turn my face. |
|
| THE LITANIE. |
|
| I. |
|
| The Father. |
|
| Father of Heaven, and him, by whom |
| It, and us for it, and all else, for us |
| Thou mad'st and govern'st ever, come, |
| And re-create me, now grown ruinous: |
| My heart is by dejection clay, |
| And by self-murder, red. |
| From this red earth, O Father, purge away |
| All vicious tinctures, that new fashioned |
| I may rise up from death, before I'm dead.
|
[CW: II.] |