Classic Poem

From depth of grief
where droun'd I ly,
lord for relief
to thee I cry:
my ernest, vehment, cryeng, prayeng,
graunt quick, attentive, heering, waighing.

O Lord, if thou
offences mark,
who shall not bow
to beare the cark?
but with thy justice mercy dwelleth,
and makes thy worshipp more, excelleth.

Yea makes my soule
on thee, o lord
dependeth whole,
and on thy word,
though sore with blott of sinne defaced,
yet surest hope hath firmly placed.

Who longest watch
who soonest rise,
can nothing match
the early eyes;
the greedy eies my soule errecteth,
while gods true promise it expecteth.

Then Israel
on god attend:
attend him wel,
who still thy frend,
in kindnes hath thee deere esteemed,
and often, often, erst redeemed.

Now, as before;
unchanged he
will thee restore
thy state will free;
all wickedness from Jacob driving
forgetting follies, faultes forgiving.