'This is Christian faith unfainèd, Orthodoxall, true, unstainèd. As I teach, all understand, Yeelding unto neither hand. And in this my soule's defence, Reiect me not for mine offence: Thogh Death's slave, yet desperation I fly in death to seek salvation. I have no meane Thy love to gain, But this faith which I maintaine. This Thou seest, nor will I cease By this to beg for a release. Let this sacred salve be bound Vpon my sores, to make them sound. Though man be carried forth, and lying In his grave, and putrifying: Bound and hid from mortall eyes; Yet if Thou bid, he must arise. At Thy will the grave will open, At Thy will his bonds are broken. And forth he comes without delay, If Thou but once bid, Come away! In this sea of dread and doubt My poore barke is tost about; With storms and pirats far and wide, Death and woes on every side. Come, thou Steer's-man ever blest, Calme these winds that me molest; Chase these ruthlesse pyrats hence, And show me some safe residence. My tree is fruitles, dry, and dead, All the boughs are witherèd; Downe it must, and to the fire, If desert have his due hire. But spare it, Lord, another yeare. With manuring it [yet] may beare. If it then be dead and dry, Burne it; alas, what remedy! Mine old foe assaults me sore With fire and water, more and more. Poore I, of all my strength bereft, Onely unto Thee am left. That my foe may hence be chasèd, And I from Ruin's clawes releasèd, Lord, vouchsafe me every day Strength to fast, and faith to pray: These two meanes Thyself hast taught To bring temptation's force to noght. Lord, free my soule from sin's infection By repentance's direction. Be Thy feare in me abiding, My soule to true salvation guiding. Grant me faith, Lord, hope, and love, Zeale of heaven and things above. Teach mee prize the world at nought; On Thy blisse be all my thought. All my hopes on Thee I found, In Whom all good things abound. Thou art all my dignitie: All I have I have from Thee. Thou art my comfort in distresse, Thou art my cure in heavinesse; Thou art my music in my sadnes, Thou art my medicine in my madnesse. Thou my freedom from my thral, Thou my raiser from my fall. In my labour Thou reliev'st me; Thou reform'st whatever grieves me. Al my wrongs Thy hand revengeth, And from hurt my soul defendeth. Thou my deepest doubts revealest, Thou my secret faults concealest. O do Thou stay my feet from treading In paths to hel and horror leading, Where eternal torment dwels, With fears and tears and lothsome smels; Where man's deepest shame is sounded, And the guilty still confounded; Where the scourge for ever beateth, And the worme that alwaies eateth;