Thou Gracious Lord, Our Honour'd Generall May't suite thy Pleasure never to impute, It our Presumption, when presume we shall To line thy Noble Ears with our Greate suite? With ropes about our necks we come and lie, Before thy pleasure's Will, and Clemency. When we unto the height of Sin were grown, We sought thy Throne to overthrow; but were In this our seeking Quickly overthrown: A Mass of Mercy in thy face shone cleare. We quarter had: though if we'de had our share We had been quarter'd up as Rebells are. Didst thou thy Grace on Treators arch expend? And force thy Favour on thy stubborn Foe? And hast no Favour for a failing Friend, That in thy Quarrell trippeth with his toe? If thus it be, thy Foes Speed better far, Than do thy Friends, that go to fight thy War. But is it as the Adversary said? Dost thou not hear his murdering Canons roare? What Vollies fly? What Ambushments are laid? And still his stratagems grow more, and more. Lord, fright this frightfull Enemy away. A Trip makes not a Traitor: Spare we pray. And if thou still suspect us come, and search: Pluck out our hearts and search them narrowly. If Sin allow'd in any Corner learch, We beg a Pardon, and a Remedy. Lord Gybbit up such Rebells Arch Who do Set ope the back doore to thy Cursed foe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SACRAL DREAMS OF RAMON FERNANDEZ by JAMES GALVIN A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE AUTHOR'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIMSELF by WALTER RALEIGH GIRL TO SOLDIER ON LEAVE by ISAAC ROSENBERG IN MEMORIAM, NINTH OF AB by BEN AVROM PROLOGUE FOR MRS. SUTHERLAND'S BENEFIT NIGHT by ROBERT BURNS IMMORTAL by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR ON THE TRUE MEANING OF THE SCRIPTURE TERMS 'LIFE AND DEATH,' by JOHN BYROM |