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EBBA 30254

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Sinners supplication.
Confessing his sins, and humbly craving pardon of the Lord:
he hateth the world, and desireth to inhabit [i]n the heavenly Jerusalem:
and the description thereof. To the tune of, Troy Towne.

O Gratious God and heavenly King,
That rules and governes every thing,
Whose power the heavens & earth do know,
Behold me wretch opprest with woe:
Be thou my God in this distresse,
And ease me of my wickednesse.
O Lord, Lord for thy mercy now forgive
me, come and receive me home.

The terrors of this fea[r] full death,
Which makes so many lose their breath,
Doe make me feare my part therein,
For recompence of my great sinne
O Lord unto my voice give heed,
And rid my life and soule from dread.
O Lord; Lord for thy mercy, etc.

Most gracious God now lend thine eare,
Bow downe thy selfe my cryes to heare,
Let not my words be spent in vaine,
But helpe me Lord now I complaine.
Be thou my rocke my strength and stay,
For thou hast promist helpe alway.

This grievous scourge which thou hast sent,
Upon us for our chastisement:
We must confesse we have deserved,
For from thy lawes we all have swerved.
Our sinnes have sore provoked thee,
In wrath against us all to be. etc.

The sinnes of Sodome here doe raigne,
And in our Citie doe remaine,
Both old and young, both rich and poore,
Doe daily sinne and vex thee sore:
They sweare and lye, they steale and kill,
[a]nd for old shoes the poore they sell,

False beames and weights are daily used,
Whereby full many are abused,
And covetous Usurers by excesse,
Have brought a number to distresse,
They purchase daily house and ground,
And racking rents the poore they wound.

And I O Lord amongst the rest,
Doe yeeld that I have sore transgrest:
But yet O Lord I thee desire,
Not to rebuke me in thine ire.
Beare not in mind my former ill,
But frame me to thy holy will.

I was conceivd and borne in sin,
And since I have most wicked bin,
Offending thee my gracious God,
Whereby I have deserved thy rod,
But now O Lord I doe repent.
Let me not feele thy punishment.

My sinnes are set before mine eyes,
My gracelesse oathes I doe despise,
My want of grace I doe lament,
And youthfull time so vainely spent.
Forgive me Lord for Christ his sake,
And let thy wrath and anger slake.

Vaine world adue, thou flatterest man,
I loath thee now, doe what thou can:
I yeeld my selfe most willingly
Unto my God to live and dye.
For under his wings I plainely see,
There is most safety for to be.

The second part, To the same Tune.

Oh where said David shall I fly,
But God will there be presently?
There is no place to scape from God,
If thou deserve to feele his rod.
Thou man in thy vocation stay,
And God will thee defend alway.

I with my selfe am now resolved,
And with Saint Paul to be dissolved,
From this Body of sinne and mire,
I doe most earnestly desire,
And with my Saviour Christ to be,
To live with him eternally.

My thirsty soule desires her draught,
My poysoned mind would faine be out,
From chaines and fetters of the flesh,
To live with him in happinesse:
She longs to come into the coast,
Which she by Sathans wiles hath lost.

From Egypt now I will returne,
Where cruell bondage makes me mourne,
And eke from Babylon I would be,
Released from captivity:
To be in new Jerusalem,
Amongst the Saints to sing with them.

This is the home which I doe meane,
That City new Jerusalem:
Where many thousand Saints doe sing
Praises unto their heavenly King.
Within that Citty there is peace,
Continue's still and never cease.

There is an everlasting spring,
There birds doe ever chirp and sing,
There blustring winter never blowes,
It never freezeth there nor snowes:

Nor Summers parching doth no harme,
The weather there is temperate warme.

There pleasant Gardens ever keepe,
All sorts of Flowers ever sweet:
The trees do blossome bud and beare
The fruits are mellow all the yeere
All sorts of plants both fresh and greene,
At all times there are to bee seene.

The gates of equall distance be,
Most beautifull and faire to see:
Bedeckt with many precious stones,
And wrought with burnisht Ivory bones,
The walles of Jasper richly built,
The streets and houses pav'd and guilt.

There pleasant Wine in rivers flowes,
Upon the bankes the Suger growes,
Enclos'd in Reedes of Cynamon,
More sweeter than the hony combe:
To see these sights and many moe,
Who would not covet there to goe?

There is no need of Moone nor Sunne,
For there the day and night are one:
No heart can think nor tongue can tell,
The glorious sightes for to excell.
The dwellers there are crown'd with gold,
Like Kings most glorious to behold.

Like loving friends they live in blisse,
Like spouses they the Bridegroome kisse,
Their loving Lord and master deare,
Who feasteth them with heavenly cheere,
O God of heaven of thy good grace,
Conduct us to that heavenly place.
O Lord, Lord for thy mercy, now forgive
me, come and receive me home.


Printed at London for Henry Gosson, dwelling on London Bridge.

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