I have sinned: what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? Why dost thou set me as a mark against thee.

done, and, Lord, have misdone;

'Tis folly to contest, to strive with one

That is too strong; 'tis folly to assail

Or prove an arm that will, that must prevail.

I've done, I've done; these trembling hands have thrown
Their daring weapons down: the day's thine own.
Forbear to strike, where thou hast won the field;
The palm, the palm is thine: I yield, I yield.
These treach'rous hands that were so vainly bold
To try a thriveless* combat, and to hold
Self-wounding weapons up, are now extended
For mercy from thy hand; that knee that bended
Upon her guardless guard,† doth now repent
Upon this naked floor; see both are bent,
And sue for pity: O my ragged wound

Is deep and desp'rate, it is drench'd and drown'd
In blood and briny tears: it doth begin
To stink without, and putrify within.
Let that victorious hand, that now appears
Just in my blood, prove gracious to my tears:
Thou great preserver of presumptuous man,
What shall I do? What satisfaction can
Poor dust and ashes make? O if that blood,
That yet remains unshed, were half as good

Thriveless; i. e. unsuccessful.

A term in fencing.

As

As blood of oxen, if my death might be
An off'ring to atone my God and me,
I would disdain injurious life, and stand
A suitor to be wounded from thy hand.
But may thy wrongs be measur'd by the span
Of life, or balanc'd with the blood of man?
No, no, eternal sin expects for guerdon,*
Eternal penance, or eternal pardon :

Lay down thy weapons, turn thy wrath away,
And pardon him that hath no price to pay;
Enlarge that soul, which base presumption binds;
Thy justice cannot loose what mercy finds;

O thou that wilt not bruise the broken reed,
Rub not my sores, nor prick the wounds that bleed,
Lord, if thy peevish infants fight and flies,
With unpar'd weapons, at his mother's eyes,

Her frowns (half mix'd with smiles) may chance to shew An angry love-tick on his arm, or so;

Where, if the babe but make a lip and cry,

Her heart begins to melt, and by-and-by

She coakst his dewy cheeks; her babe she blisses,
And choaks her language with a thousand kisses.
I am that child: lo, here I prostrate lie,
Pleading for mercy; I repent, and cry
For gracious pardon: let thy gentle ears
Hear that in words, what mothers judge in tears:
See not my frailties, Lord, but throught my fear,
And look on ev'ry trespass through a tear:
Then calm thine anger, and appear more mild;
Remember, th' art a father, I a child.

* Guerdon; i. e. reward.

+ Coaks; i. e. soothes.

‡ Through; ie, see through,

S. BERN.

S. BERN. Ser. xxi. in Cant.

Miserable man! Who shall deliver me from the reproach of this shameful bondage? I am a miserable man, but a free man: free because like to God; miserable because against God. O keeper of mankind; why hast thou set me as a mark against thee? Thou hast set me, because thou hast not hindered me: it is just that thy enemy should be my enemy; and that he who repugneth thee, should repugn me: I, who am against thee, am against myself.

EPIG. 6.

But form'd, and fight? But born, and then rebel ?
How small a blast will make a bubble swell!

But dare the floor afront the hand that made it
So apt is dust to fly in's face that made it!

JOB