A Prayer or supplycation made unto God by
a yonge man, that he woulde be mercifull to us, and not kepe his worde away from
us, but that the truth maie springe.
Psalme, C.xix.
Wherein hath a yonge man O Lorde to rejoyce,
But in thy worde: therefore put I forth my voyce.
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O Lorde of mercye us beholde
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The whiche are here in great mysery
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And in doynge thy wyll lorde we are to colde
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Therefore on us shewe some pytye
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For mercy unto thee now do we crye
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That thou in our synnes suffre us not to dye.
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Let us not be forsaken of thee O lorde
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Although we be wretched and synfull
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But thy mercies nowe showe abrode
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And to us synners moost wicked be mercyfull
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For mercy unto thee nowe do we crye
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That thou in our synnes suffer us not to dye.
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Thou dyddest thy worde plentyfully sowe abrode
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Even unto us lorde of tyme very late
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But we were to unthankfull, all with one accorde
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Therefore thou dyddest, o lorde, it away take
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Wherefore nowe for mercye unto thee we crye
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That thou in oure synnes suffre us not to dye.
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Good lorde be merciful unto us we thee praye
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Although destruction we have deserved
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Let us have thy worde agayne, O lorde, to be our stay
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That by stronge fayth in thee, we maye be saved
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For onelye unto thee continually wyll we crye
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That thou in our synnes suffer us not to die.
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Take away Idolatry, o lord, let that no more upspring
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In this, O lorde, thy poore and symple lande
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Thou dydst plague us lord, in taking away our Kynge
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Wherefore holde over us nowe thy right hande
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And forgeve us lorde, nowe do we crye
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That in our synnes thou suffre us not to dye.
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Full godly and ryghteously dyd he begynne
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For the tyme thou gavest hym space
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To set forth thy glorie, and punishe synne
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This was the intente of his grace
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Therefore for the like do we now crye
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That thou in oure synnes suffer us not to dye.
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Images, o lorde, he plucked cleane downe
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And ceremonies that were naughte
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And priestes he made leave Baales crowne
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And thy worde he caused to be taught
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For by thy worde all thinge did he trie
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that we in ignoraunce shoulde not dye.
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He was the sower thy seede to sowe
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As thy Evangelistes do playnely wryte
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But some of thy seede away did goe
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Amonge the harde grounde dyd it lighte
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therfore for forgevenes now do we crye
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that thou in oure synnes suffre us not to die.
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We are that harde and stonye grounde
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Where some of thy sede dyd fall
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Of whiche seede small rote is founde
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Sathan almooste had dryed up all
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Therefore for mercye now do we crye
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that thou in oure synnes suffre us not to die,
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O Lorde, make us of that fruytfull grounde
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the whiche doth kepe thy commaundementes
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That great increase of godlynes in us maye be founde
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that we maye serve thee with good intentes
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And alwayes for mercye unto thee to crie
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That we in our sinnes do never die,
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Ful notable and excellent kinges thou hast geven us
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Kynge Henry the eight of moost famous memorie
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Whiche abolyshed the byshop of Rome from us
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And by thi mighty power plucked down much idolatri
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We consideringe this, for mercye do now crye
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That in our sinnes thou suffre us not to die.
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Also we were made to go and worship a false God
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Whiche was a great abhomination and ydolatrye
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But thy commaundementes he set forth abrode
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In oure owne native speache moost truely
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Teachinge us alwayes on the for to crye
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that we in oure sinnes lorde, shoulde not dye.
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Even as Esechias was unto Judae
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So was Kynge Henry unto Englande
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Unto this Kynge, o lorde, compare we
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Edwarde the syxte whom thou hast in thy hande
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Which thy word set abrode most manifestlye
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That we in our sinnes Lorde, shoulde not dye.
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Although that in age he was not so hye
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Yet unto his steppes he went very nere
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Unto the glory of thy blessed Majestie
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And unto the soule helth of us his subjectes dere
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Therefore unto thee, o lorde, do we now crye
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that thou in our sinnes suffer us not to dye
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His father broke the Pilgrimages going
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to this saint and that saint, to and fro
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But he, o lorde, at his upcomminge
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Brought doune all as thou doest knowe
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For by thy worde he dyd all thinge trie
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That we in our sinnes shoulde not die.
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He was in age like to that vertuous kinge
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Josias, which in Hierusalem dyd raigne
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One and thirtie yeares had he there his beynge
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And executed thy lawe this is very plaine
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But for oure unthankfulnes, o lorde, truely
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Thou causedst our worthy kinge shortly for to die.
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I hartely beseche thee, o eternall God
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To kepe and preserve Elysabeth our Quene
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That she may thy worde now set abrode
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Nowe in her time as before hath bene
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By her godly Father & brother, for which thing we cry
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That we may repent, and not in our sinnes die,
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