I am a little world made cunningly Of Elements, and an Angelike spright, But black sinne hath betraid to endlesse night My worlds both parts, and (oh) both parts must die. You which beyond that heaven which was most high 5 Have found new sphears, and of new lands can write, Powre new seas in mine eyes, that so I might Drowne my world with my weeping earnestly, Or wash it, if it must be drown'd no more: But oh it must be burnt! alas the fire 10 Of lust and envie have burnt it heretofore, And made it fouler; Let their flames retire, And burne me ô Lord, with a fiery zeale Of thee and thy house, which doth in eating heale. [V. _1635-69:_ _omitted_ _1633_, _A18_, _D_, _&c.:_ VII. _B_, _O'F_, _S96_, _W_] [6 lands _B_, _S96_, _W:_ land _1635-69_, _O'F_] [7 I _1635-54:_ he _1669_] [9 it, _Ed:_ it: _W:_ it _1635-69_] [10 burnt! _Ed:_ burnt, _1635-69_] [11 have _B_, _S96_, _W:_ hath _O'F:_ _om._ _1635-69_] [12 fouler; _W:_ fouler, _1635-69_ their] those _W_] [13 Lord] God _W_] VI. This is my playes last scene, here heavens appoint My pilgrimages last mile; and my race Idly, yet quickly runne, hath this last pace, My spans last inch, my minutes latest point, And gluttonous death, will instantly unjoynt 5 My body, and soule, and I shall sleepe a space, But my'ever-waking part shall see that face, Whose feare already shakes my every joynt: Then, as my soule, to'heaven her first seate, takes flight, And earth-borne body, in the earth shall dwell, 10 So, fall my sinnes, that all may have their right, To where they'are bred, and would presse me, to hell. Impute me righteous, thus purg'd of evill, For thus I leave the world, the flesh, the devill. [VI. _1635-69_, _B_, _O'F_, _S96_, _W:_ III. _1633_, _A18_, _D_, _&c._] [6 and soule, _1635-69:_ and my soule, _1633_] [7 Or presently, I know not, see that Face, _B_, _D_, _H49_, _O'F_, _S_, _S96_, _W_] [10 earth-borne _1635-69:_ earth borne _1633_] [14 flesh,] flesh _1633_ the devill.] and devill. _A18_, _B_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _O'F_, _S96_, _TC_, _W_] VII. At the round earths imagin'd corners, blow Your trumpets, Angells, and arise, arise From death, you numberlesse infinities Of soules, and to your scattred bodies goe, All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow, 5 All whom warre, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despaire, law, chance, hath slaine, and you whose eyes, Shall behold God, and never tast deaths woe. But let them sleepe, Lord, and mee mourne a space, For, if above all these, my sinnes abound, 10 'Tis late to aske abundance of thy grace, When wee are there; here on this lowly ground, Teach mee how to repent; for that's as good As if thou'hadst seal'd my pardon, with thy blood.