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When my devotions could not pierce

Thy silent ears,

Then was my heart broken, as was my verse;

My breast was full of fears

And disorder;

My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow,

Did fly asunder;

Each took his way; some would to pleasures go,

Some to the wars and thunder

Of alarms.


As good go anywhere, they say,

As to benumb

Both knees and heart, in crying night and day,

'Come, come, my GOD, O come!'

But no hearing.

O that Thou shouldst give dust a tongue

To cry to Thee,

And then not hear it crying! All day long

My heart was in my knee,

But no hearing.

Therefore my soul lay out of sight,

Untuned, unstrung;

My feeble spirit, unable to look right,

Like a nipt blossom, hung


O, cheer and tune my heartless breast,

Defer no time;

That so Thy favours granting my request,

They and my soul may chime,

And mend my rhyme.

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