Lord, I confess my sin is great; <br />Great is my sin. Oh! gently treat <br />With thy quick flow'r, thy momentany bloom; <br />Whose life still pressing <br />Is one undressing, <br />A steady aiming at a tomb. <br /> <br />Man's age is two hours' work, or three: <br />Each day doth round about us see. <br />Thus are we to delights: but we are all <br />To sorrows old, <br />If life be told <br />From what life feeleth, Adam's fall. <br /> <br />O let thy height of mercy then <br />Compassionate short-breathed men. <br />Cut me not off for my most foul transgression: <br />I do confess <br />My foolishness; <br />My God, accept of my confession. <br /> <br />Sweeten at length this bitter bowl, <br />Which thou hast pour'd into my soul; <br />Thy wormwood turn to health, winds to fair weather: <br />For if thou stay, <br />I and this day, <br />As we did rise, we die together. <br /> <br />When thou for sin rebukest man, <br />Forthwith he waxeth woe and wan: <br />Bitterness fills our bowels; all our hearts <br />Pine, and decay, <br />And dropp away, <br />And carry with them th'other parts. <br /> <br />But thou wilt sin and grief destroy; <br />That so the broken bones may joy, <br />And tune together in a well-set song, <br />Full of his praises, <br />Who dead men raises; <br />Fractures well cur'd make us more strong.<br /><br />George Herbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/repentance/
