ADAM

Merciful father, thy pytiefull grace extend, To me careful wretch, which have me soar abused. Thy precept breaking. Oh lord, I mind to amend, If thy great goodness, would now have me excused, Most heavenly maker, lete me not be refused, Nor taste from thy sight, for one poor sinful cr Alas I am frail, my whole kind is but slime Soch heavy fortune, hath chiefly chanced me, For that I was left, to mine own liberty. Nay, all I ascribe, to my own imbecyllyte. No fault in the lord, but in my infirmyte, And want of respect, in such gifts as thu gavest me. Avoid it I can not, thu layest it to me so harden. Lord now I perceive, what power is in man, And strength of himself, when thy sweet grace is absent. He must needs but fallen, do he the best he can, And danger himself, as ap reth evident. For I sinned not, so long as thu Wertenberg present. But when thu Wertenberg gone, I fell to sin by and by, And the displeased. Good lord I axe the mercy. fault good lord, avenge not thy self on me. but a worm, or a fleshly vanity. Yet gracious father, extend to me thy mercy, And throw not away, the work which thu hast create, To thine own Image, But avert from me thy hate. Thy displeasure is, to me most heavy smart. Tell it me sweet lord, that I may thereafter go. Sweet lord the promise, that thy self here hath made me, Of thy mere goodness, and not of my deserving, In my faith I trust, shall so established be, By help of thy grace, that it shall be remaining, So long as I shall, have here continuing, And show it I will, to my posterity, That they in like case, have thereby felicity, At thy pleasure lord, all things might ever be, Incessant praising, to the most heavenly lord, For this thy succour, and underserved kyndenesse. Thu byndest me in heart, thy gracious gifts to record, And to bear in mind, now after my heauynesse, The bruit of thy name, with inward joy and gladness, Thu disdainest not, as wele appeareth this day, To fatche to thy fold, thy first sheep going a stray. Most mighty maker, thu castest not yet away, Thy sinful feruaunt, which hath done most offence. It is not thy mind, for ever I should decay, But thu reservest me, of thy benyuolence, And hast provided, for me a recompense, By thy appointment, Like as I have received, In thy strong promise, here openly pronounced, This goodness dear lord, of me is undeserved, I so declining, from thy first instytucyon, At so light motions. To one that thus hath swerved, What a lord art thu, to give such retrybucyon? I damnable wretch, deserved execution, Of terrible death, without all remedy, And to be put out, of all good memory. I am inforced, to rejoice here inwardly, And imp though I be, of hell, death, and damnation, Through my own working. For I consider thy mercy. And pytiefull mind, for my whole generation. It is thu sweet lord, that workest my salvation, And my recover. Therefore of a congruence, From hens thu must have, my heart and obedience. Thought I be mortal, by reason of my offence, And shall die the death, Like as God hath appointed. Of this am I sure, through his high influence, At a serten day, again to be revived. From ground of my heart, this shall not be removed. I have it in faith, and therefore I will sing, This Anthem to him, that my salvation shall bring. Yet mercy sweet lord, if any mercy may be.