POor heart, lament.
For since thy God refuseth still,
There is some rub, some discontent,
                          Which cools his will.

                          Thy Father could
Quickly effect, what thou dost move;
For he is Power: and sure he would;
                          For he is Love.

                          Go search this thing,
Tumble thy breast, and turn thy book.
If thou hadst lost a glove or ring,
                          Wouldst thou not look?

                          What do I see
Written above there? Yesterday
I did behave me carelessly,
                          When I did pray.

                          And should Gods eare
To such indifferents chained be,
Who do not their own motions heare?
                          Is God lesse free?

                          But stay! what's there?
Late when I would have something done,
I had a motion to forbear,
                          Yet I went on.

                          And should Gods eare,
Which needs not man, be ty'd to those
Who heare not him, but quickly heare
                          His utter foes?

                          Then once more pray:
Down with thy knees, up with thy voice.
Seek pardon first, and God will say,
                          Glad heart rejoyce.