.NDU.MjI1OTI: Difference between revisions

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Such unto mee thy blessings are
Such unto mee thy blessings are
As though I weare thy only care
As though I weare thy only care
But O my god thou art more kinde
When I looke inward on my mynde
Though filst my harte wth humble ioye
  wth patience meek, and fervent love
All other loues wch doth distroye,
  wth faith wch nothing can remove
And hope assurd of hea[] and blisse
This is my state thy grace is this

Revision as of 09:46, 8 July 2017

Brooke of Teares

Whoe would have thought there could have bine Such joye in teares as wept for our sinne Myne eye hath seene my heart hath prou'de

  the most and best of earthlye joyes

The sweet of loue, and being loude

  maskes, feasts, & playes, & suchlike

Yet this one teare with none doth fall An true delight exceeds them all

Indeed myne eyes at first lett in Those [gushed: crossed out] {illegible: written above] that [ ] these woes begin Therefore myne Eyes in teares and greife

  Are iustlye drown'd but that those tears

Should comforte bringe, his past beliefe,

  O God in this thy grace appeares

Thou that makes light from darknes spring Makes joyes to weepe, and sadnes singe

O where am I, what may I thinke, Helpe, Helpe, Alas, my hart doth sinke,

  Thus lost in seas of woe
     this laden with my sinne
     waves of dispayre dash in
  And threate myne overthrowe

What harte opprest wth such a weight []an thoose but sinke and perrish strange

Yet as at sea in stormes men choose the shippe to saue, their goods to loose,

  Soe in this fearefull storme
     this danger to p^rvent
     before all hope be spent
  Ile choose the lesser harme

My teares to seas I will convert And drowne myne eyes to save my heart,

O god my god what shall I give To thee in thankes; I am and live In thee, and thou dost safe p^rserns

  My health my fame, my goods my rent

Thou makes me eate, whilst other sterue

  And sing whilst other doth lament

Such unto mee thy blessings are As though I weare thy only care

But O my god thou art more kinde When I looke inward on my mynde Though filst my harte wth humble ioye

  wth patience meek, and fervent love

All other loues wch doth distroye,

  wth faith wch nothing can remove

And hope assurd of hea[] and blisse This is my state thy grace is this