When I shall with my whole self cleave to Thee, I shall no where have sorrow or labour; and my life shall wholly live, as
wholly full of Thee. But now since whom Thou fillest, Thou liftest up, because I am not full of Thee I am a burden to myself.
Lamentable joys strive with joyous sorrows: and on which side is the victory, I know not. Woe is me! Lord, have pity on me.
My evil sorrows strive with my good joys; and on which side is the victory, I know not. Woe is me! Lord, have pity
on me. Woe is me! lo! I hide not my wounds; Thou art the Physician, I the sick; Thou merciful, I miserable. Is not the
life of man upon earth all trial? Who wishes for troubles and difficulties? Thou commandest them to be endured, not to be
loved. No man loves what he endures, though he love to endure. For though he rejoices that he endures, he had rather there
were nothing for him to endure. In adversity I long for prosperity, in prosperity I fear adversity. What middle place is there
these two, where the life of man is not all trial? Woe to the prosperities of the world, once and again, through fear
of adversity, and corruption of joy! Woe to the adversities of the world, once and again, and the third time, from the longing
for prosperity, and because adversity itself is a hard thing, and lest it shatter endurance. Is not the life of man upon earth
all trial: without any interval?