Sighs and Groans

                           O do not use me

After my sins! look not on my dessert,

But on your glory! Then you will reform

And not refuse me: for you only art

The mighty God, but I a silly worm;

                           O do not bruise me!

                           O do not urge me!

For what account can your ill steward make?

I have abused your stock, destroyed your woods,

Sucked all your storehouses: my head did ache,

Till it found out how to consume your goods:

                           O do not scourge me!

                           O do not blind me!

I have deserved that an Egyptian night

Should thicken all my powers; because my lust

Has still sewed fig-leaves to exclude your light:

But I am frailty, and already dust;

                           O do not grind me!

                           O do not fill me

With the turned vial of your bitter wrath!

For you have other vessels full of blood,

A part whereof my Savior emptied hath,

Even unto death: since he died for my good,

                           O do not kill me!

                           But O reprieve me!

For you have life and death at your command;

You are both Judge and Savior, feast and rod,

Cordial and Corrosive: put not your hand

Into the bitter box; but O my God,

                           My God, relieve me!