Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PENITENTIAL PSALM: 130. DE PROFUNDIS, by THOMAS WYATT



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PENITENTIAL PSALM: 130. DE PROFUNDIS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: From depth of sin, and from a deep despair
Last Line: And thus begins the suit of his pretense.
Alternate Author Name(s): Wyat, Thomas
Variant Title(s): Paraphrase Of The Bible
Subject(s): Penance


From depth of sin and from a deep despair,
From depth of death, from depth of heart's sorrow,
From this deep cave of darkness deep repair,
Thee have I called, O Lord, to be my borrow;
Thou in my voice, O Lord, perceive and hear
My heart, my hope, my plaint, my overthrow,
My will to rise: and let by grant appear
That to my voice Thine ears do well intend.
No place so far that to Thee is not near;
No depth so deep that Thou ne mayst extend
Thine ear thereto: hear then my woeful plaint.
For, Lord, if Thou do observe what men offend
And put Thy native mercy in restraint,
If just exaction demand recompense,
Who may endure, O Lord? Who shall not faint
At such accompt? Dread, and not reverence
Should so reign large. But Thou seeks rather love.
For in Thy hand is mercy's residence,
By hope whereof Thou dost our hearts move.
I in Thee, Lord, have set my confidence;
My soul such trust doth evermore approve.
Thy holy word of eterne excellence,
Thy mercy's promise that is alway just,
Have been my stay, my pillar and pretense.
My soul in God hath more desirous trust
Than hath the watchman looking for the day,
By the relief to quench of sleep the thrust.
Let Israel trust unto the Lord alway,
For grace and favor earn His property;
Plenteous ransom shall come with Him, I say,
And shall redeem all our iniquity.

This word redeem, that in his mouth did sound,
Did put David, it seemeth unto me,
As in a trance to stare upon the ground,
And with his thought the height of heaven to see;
Where he beholds the word that should confound
The sword of death: by humble ear to be
Immortal made, in mortal habit made,
Eternal life in mortal veil to shade.

He seeth that word, when full ripe time should come,
Do way that veil, by fervent affection
Turn off with death, for death should have her doom:
And leapeth lighter from such corruption
The glint of light that in the air doth loom.
Man redeemed, death hath her destruction,
That mortal veil hath immortality,
David assurance of his iniquity.

Whereby he frames this reason in his heart:
That goodness which doth not forbear His Son
From death for me and can thereby convert
My death to life, my sin to salvation,
Both can and will a smaller grace depart
To him that sueth by humble supplication;
And since I have his larger grace assayed,
To ask this thing why am I then affrayed?

He granteth most to them that most do crave,
And He delights in suit without respect;
Alas, my son pursues me to the grave,
Suffered by God my sin for to correct:
But of my sin since I may pardon have,
My son's pursuit shall shortly be reject;
Then will I crave with sured confidence.
And thus begins the suit of his pretense.





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