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EBBA 32087

Huntington Library - Britwell
Ballad XSLT Template
The complaint of a sinner, vexed with paine,
Desyring the joye, that ever shall remayne.
After W.E. moralized.

THe God of love, that sits above,
Doth know us, Doth know us,
How sinfull that we bee:
Sent his word, the two edged sword
To shew us, To shew us,
Our sin and iniquitie.
That every vice may vanquished be,
Oh Lord arise for thy mercye
Doe this our God and bynd us,
For ever and ever thine owne:
The truth wyl alway fynd us,
By the seedes that we have sowne.
The truth wyl tel if we wold lye,
The touchstone doth the tree wel trye.

And as we have a soule to save,
Uprightly, Uprightly,
Though troubled stil with sin:
We shuld not take, that did us make,
So lightly, So lightly,
This worldly wealth to win.
But if we wyl the Lord provoke
We may loke for his heavy stroke,
As his word hath appointed
The Scripture doth plainely tell:
Yet shal not his holy anointed
Once tast the paynes of Hell.
Now have I told the jeoperdy,
But Christ is our just remedy.

With woful harts though god for-beares
To plague us, To plague us,
We ought for to lament:
Thy word alway, both night & day
Perswade us, Perswade us,
Inwardly for to repent.
And every one to call for grace
Since the touchstone in every place,
Doth florish fresh and shyne
That the whole world may see:
And all that wyl be thyne,
Must come with teares to thee.
We wyl not boast our merites Lord,
Since thy deare son made the accord

We reade of olde, what Prophetes tolde
Full truly, Full truly,
And wrote it long a go:
A Mayden myld, shulde beare a child
Full duely, Full duely,
And it proved even so.
But yet God wot, the Jewes of kynd
Beleved it not, but were styl blynd,
And are unto this day
Refusyng the Triumphant truth:
That the Prophet Esaye did say
And wrote it to age and youth.
But therto they wold not accord,
But cruelly crucified the Lord.

But let us now, both bend and bow,
And spede us, And spede us,
To follow the true trace:
For he hath sent, his Testament,
To feede us. To feede us,
And call us unto grace.
Unworthy now although we bee
Yet ye see how his deare mercye,
To us he doth still geve
And liberall gyftes us send:
That we might sure beleve
And our lewde lives amend:
Therfore let us our harts enclyne,
That pearles be not cast unto swyne

The flesh (I say) both night & day,
Doth hold us, Doth hold us,
From followyng the true trace:
But thy deare son, doth bid us come,
And bold us, And bold us,
To call to thee for grace.
Thus sayeth our saviour Jesu
Come unto me, and I wyl ease you,
If ye wyl cal and knocke
That are over laden with sin:
Then wyl I open the locke
And be ready to let you in.
For I am he that bought you deare,
Therfore behold, and draw ye neare.


FINIS.
W. Birch.
Imprinted at London by Alexander
Lacy, for Richard Applow, dwellyng in Pater noster row, hard by
the Castle Taverne.

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