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Christo Salvatori
Christo Salvatori
O thou that on the crosse for me hast died
O thou that on the Crosse for me hast died
Heare now and send mee not awaye denyed
Heare now and send mee not awaye denyed
See, I am gone a straye, and am at losse
See, I am gone a straye, and am at losse
When I should
When I should follow thee, & beare thy Crosse,
My sinnes, when they should strike, stroake wth yr hands [in margin: flagellu[m]]
Their libertye is worse, then whipps or bands
Ffor from thy pathes they turne my erring ffeet
And make me quitt thy yoake, thy burden sweet
Insteed whereof even myne owne flesh beginns  [in margin: onus]
To over load my soule, prest downe my sinnes,
On wch my ghostlye enemye hath hurled
His heavye load, the whole wayght of the world,
And on the topp of all this packe sits hee
O wretched man whoe shall deliver mee
When to the world I crucifyed shall bee
The world hath crucifyed mee unto thee
Soe long a downe sleepe broad waye strowd wth flowers
And for a Crosse, stretcht on her bed I lye  [in margin: crux]
Softer then downe, blowne wth p[ro]speritye
Whose height is pride, whose depth Hells farrest coast
Whose breadth is Life, whose length a spann allmost
When I should weare thy peircing wreath of thornes  [in margin: spinæ]
My head wth wanton roses shee adornes
And clinges me to her wth imbrace soe lovinge
That but thou plucke me thence, there is, no movinge
Ffor steed of peirceing nayles shee fills my hands  [in margin: manuu[m]]
Wth the vaine sinnefull use of coyne, & hands
Wch though I spread my armes wide to receave
Thee through my hands at last and nothing leave
My readye ffeete least they should runn thy waye [in margin: pedum]
Shee fixes downe in sinfull myre and claye
My myndes swift ffeet, that faine thy paths would know
Shee nayles to earth, wth thoughts most base & lowe
Insteed of gall, and sponge (to hide her mallice) [in margin: Ffell]
Shee

Latest revision as of 11:18, 17 July 2017

Christo Salvatori O thou that on the Crosse for me hast died Heare now and send mee not awaye denyed See, I am gone a straye, and am at losse When I should follow thee, & beare thy Crosse, My sinnes, when they should strike, stroake wth yr hands [in margin: flagellu[m]] Their libertye is worse, then whipps or bands Ffor from thy pathes they turne my erring ffeet And make me quitt thy yoake, thy burden sweet Insteed whereof even myne owne flesh beginns [in margin: onus] To over load my soule, prest downe my sinnes, On wch my ghostlye enemye hath hurled His heavye load, the whole wayght of the world, And on the topp of all this packe sits hee O wretched man whoe shall deliver mee When to the world I crucifyed shall bee The world hath crucifyed mee unto thee Soe long a downe sleepe broad waye strowd wth flowers And for a Crosse, stretcht on her bed I lye [in margin: crux] Softer then downe, blowne wth p[ro]speritye Whose height is pride, whose depth Hells farrest coast Whose breadth is Life, whose length a spann allmost When I should weare thy peircing wreath of thornes [in margin: spinæ] My head wth wanton roses shee adornes And clinges me to her wth imbrace soe lovinge That but thou plucke me thence, there is, no movinge Ffor steed of peirceing nayles shee fills my hands [in margin: manuu[m]] Wth the vaine sinnefull use of coyne, & hands Wch though I spread my armes wide to receave Thee through my hands at last and nothing leave My readye ffeete least they should runn thy waye [in margin: pedum] Shee fixes downe in sinfull myre and claye My myndes swift ffeet, that faine thy paths would know Shee nayles to earth, wth thoughts most base & lowe Insteed of gall, and sponge (to hide her mallice) [in margin: Ffell] Shee