Lord, I confess my sin is great;
Great is my sin. Oh! gently treat

Saviour, if thy precious love
Could be merited by mine,

Love built a stately house, where Fortune came,
And spinning fancies, she was heard to say

Lord, Thou art mine, and I am Thine,
If mine I am; and Thine much more

I threatened to observe the strict decree
Of my deare God with all my power and might:

Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true,
To thee of all kings only due)

 Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing ,
Nothing but bones,

To write a verse or two is all the praise
That I can raise:

Prayer the Churches banquet, Angels age,
Gods breath in man returning to his birth,

Prayer the Church's banquet, angels' age,
God's breath in man returning to his birth,

Sorry I am, my God, sorry I am,
That my offences course it in a ring.

Awake, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns ;
Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth ;

Lord, how I am all ague, when I seek
What I have treasur'd in my memory!

How should I praise thee, Lord! how should my rhymes
Gladly engrave thy love in steel,

It cannot be. Where is that mighty joy,
Which just now took up all my heart?

Listen sweet Dove unto my song,
And spread thy golden wings in me;

Oh book! Infinite sweetnesse! Let my heart
Suck ev'ry letter, and a holy gain,

Oh that I knew how all thy lights combine,
And the configurations of their glory!

 The God of love my shepherd is,
And he that doth me feed;

Holiness on the head,
Light and perfection on the breast,

If as the winds and waters here below
Do fly and flow,

Lord, how can man preach thy eternall word?
He is a brittle crazie glasse:

The fleet astronomer can bore
And thread the spheres with his quick-piercing mind: