But, oh! when she that bare thee, babe, comes to my mind, Then do I stand as drunk with bitterest woe, To think that she, whose worth were such to all, should find Of her, such sufferance, that doth pierce my heart, Hence comes the cause, that each tear striveth to be first, No salted meats: that done, you know my heart would burst But when I stay you, 'tis for that I fear, Your gushing so will leave me ne'er a tear. But, ah! this doubt, Grief says, I never need to fear, Who, in all her knowledge, never cause of woe did hear Of earth's hard usage, that does punish those Though further cause of more than utterable grief, Which I am cause of, yet her suffering being chief Hereon more deeply, and with more respect. On which dear object when I look with grieved mind, As hardest heart cause of compassion there would find, Which I have wrong'd in causing so to weep, JESUS MARIA. WHO's that which knocks? Oh, stay, my Lord, I come: Jesu, my Lord, I know thee by the Cross Come in, my Lord, whose presence most I crave, Jesu, forgive, and strengthen so my mind, Stay still, my Lord, else will they fade away, I do not fear thy summer's wished heat, PETTER, DUFF, AND CO., CRANE COURT, FLEET STREET. |