A Ballad of Anne Askew, Intituled: I am a Woman poore and Blind.
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I Am a Woman poore and blinde
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and little knowledge remaines in me,
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Long have I sought and faine would I finde,
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what hearbs in my garden were best to be.
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A garden I have which is unknowne,
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that God of his goodnes gave unto me:
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I meane my owne body wherein I would have sowne
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the seede of Christs true veritie.
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My spirit within me is vexed sore,
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my flesh striveth against the same:
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My sorrows do increase daily more and more,
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my conscience suffereth most bitter paine:
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I wish myselfe being thus at strife,
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would faine have bin at peace and rest:
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Musing and studying in my mortall life,
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what thing I might doe to please God best,
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With whole intent and one accord,
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unto a Gardner that I did know:
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I went and desired him for the love of the Lord,
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true seedes in my garden for to sow
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Then this proud Gardner seing me so blinde,
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he thought on me to worke his will:
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And flattered me with words so kind,
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to have me continue in blindnesse still.
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He fed me then with lyes and mockes,
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for veniall sinnes he bad me goe,
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To give my money to stones and stockes,
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which was starke lyes and nothing so.
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With stinking meate then was I fed,
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for to keepe me from my salvation:
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I had treu-talies of Masse, and Buls of lead,
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not one word spoken of Christs passion.
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In me was sowne all kinde of fained seedes,
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with Popish ceremonies many a one,
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Masses of Requiem with other Jugling deeds,
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till Gods spirit out of my garden was gone.
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Then was I commanded full straigtly.
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if of my salvation I would be sure:
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To build some Chappell, or some Chauntry,
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to be prayd for whilst the world endure.
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Beware of new learning, saith he, it is lies,
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which is the thing I most abhorre:
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Meddle not with it in any manner of wise,
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but doe as your fathers have done before.
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My trust I did put then in the Diviles workes,
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thinking them sufficient my soule to save.
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Being worse then either Jewes or Turkes,
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thus Christ of his merrits I did despave.
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I might liken myselfe with a wofull heart,
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unto the dumbe man in Luke the elven:
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From whome Christ caused the Divell to de-part
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but shortly after he tooke the other seaven.
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My time thus good Lord so wickedly spent,
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alas shall I die the sooner therefore:
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No, Lord, I finde written in thy Testament,
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that thou hast mercy enough in store.
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For such sinners as the Scripture saith,
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that will gladly repent and follow thy word:
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Which I will not deny whilst I have breath,
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for Prison, fire, Faggot, nor firce sword.
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Strength me good Lord in thy truth to stand,
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for the bloudy Butchers have me at their wil
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With ther slaughter knives ready drawn in ther hand
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my simple carkas to devour and kill.
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O Lord forgive me mine offence,
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for I have offended thee very sore:
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Take therefore my sinfull body from hence,
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and then shal I vild wretch offend thee no more
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I would wish all christians & faithfull friends
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to keepe them from this Gardners hands,
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For he will bring them soone unto their ends,
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with cruell torments of fierce firebrands.
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I dare not presume for him to pray,
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because the truth of him was well knowne:
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And since that time he hath gone astray,
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and much pestilent seed abroad he hath sowne
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Because that now I have no space,
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the cause of my death truely to show:
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I trust hereafter by Gods holy grace,
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that all faithfull men shall it plainely know.
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To thee O Lord I bequeath my spirit,
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which art the workemaster of the same:
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It is thine, Lord therefore take it of right,
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my carkas on earth I leave, from whence it came
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Although to ashes it be now burned,
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I know thou canst raise it againe,
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In the same likenesse that thou it formed,
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it Heaven with thee evermore to remaine.
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