The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/Complaining
¶ Complaining.
Do not beguile my heart,Because thou artMy power and wisdome. Put me not to shame,Because I amThy clay that weeps, thy dust that calls.
Thou art the Lord of glorie;The deed and storieAre both thy due: but I a silly flie,That live or dieAccording as the weather falls.
Art thou all justice, Lord?Shows not thy wordMore attributes? Am I all throat or eye,To weep or crie?Have I no parts but those of grief?
Let not thy wrathfull powerAfflict my houre,My inch of life: or let thy gracious powerContract my houre,That I may climbe and finde relief.