The confession of a penitent Sinner.  
To the tune of, O man in desperation: or, Some men for sudden joys do weep.  

 

OF Adam's séed, poor sinner I,  
come creeping to bewail  
My sin secure, my wont crime,  
no moment will I fail.  
Of sinful Saul, o Lord I pray,  
that I a Paul may be,  
And not a filthy Sodomite,  
but one of Ninivy.   

And make me with the Publican,  
myself low to submit:  
And thou, o sweet Samaritan,  
come help me wondrous sick.  
I am that Son, that unthrift child,  
that played the roisting guest:  
But call me home, good Father dear,  
I humbly thee request.   

Array me new, fetch in the Calf,  
I will no more be lost:  
And let thy friends rejoice hereat,  
and spare, I pray, no cost:  
I went not to thy Uineyard, I,  
albeit I said, I would,  
But though I come but very late,  
my hire do noi withhold.   

Take here to thee a sacrifice,  
a contrite spirit of mine:  
Which better is than blood of Bulls,  
else Goats, fat Rams, or Cows.  
Thou act my God, and I confess  
myself thy creature poor,  
I fearful Peter, thou true Christ,  
one God for evermore.   

In sin was I begot and borne,  
in sin I had my suck,  
In sin I ran my youthful race,  
in sin I was brought up.  
What world would wish to have,  
and what the flesh desired:  
All that I sought to amplify,  
thus falsely I conspired.   

I am that barren sterile field,  
where envious man did sow  
Destroying daruell, tore, and weed,  
because I might not grow.  
That stately Steward eke I. am,  
that oft my fellows beat,  
Thou art that Lord, that once to me,  
forgavest me the debt:   

But I thy kindness quite forgot,  
and would not show the like,  
But he that ought me but a small,  
I handled with great spite:  
In brother's eye a mote I spied,  
but let the beam alone,  
(And at a straw I stumbled thus)  
that long was in mine own.   

I see but still to sinful life,  
I run from worse to worse,  
And play the youngman very loath  
my substance to disburse:  
That flinty Pharaoh have I been,  
that plagues did never bread,  
I might full soon have drowned been  
but for thy better speed.    

The second part,  
To the same tune.  
 

A Pilgrim poor amid the land,  
that could not be content,  
But to endure the golden Calf,  
full oft did I consent:  
In fleshly froward fuming fume,  
full many a time I said  
In Egypt Land great store we had,  
both victuals, flesh, and bread.   

The Hypocrite I played likewise,  
and would not stand in awe,  
I came to ask which Precept was  
the greatest in the Law.  
I fed like greedy glutton fat,  
and did the beggar hate,  
I had such bustnesse, let I was  
to come to marriage gate.   

What shall I say, since thou dost know  
my sins in number all?  
To stand in judgement can I not,  
except thou rid my thrall.  
Forgive, forget, put out of mind,  
good Lord, my great offence,  
And heal my soul with price of blood  
my ample indulgence,   

Shall I despair, or dread more doubts?  
my sin is not so great,  
But mercies of my Saviour Christ,  
surmount them many a step.  
And by his promise hold I take,  
knock ye, and I will open,  
Seek, call, come all that laden be,  
the mouth of God hath spoken.   

I will be ready, hear, and help,  
your sins as scarlet red,  
As white. as snow, shall purged be,  
in Esay this is said.  
Examples eke of mercies more  
the text at large doth tell,  
Discoursing of the sinful Wife,  
who long lived as rebel.   

Both Mary Magdalen and more,  
had pardon grant of thee,  
Yea even the Thief, by his belief,  
doth live eternally.  
Why should not I, poor sinner then,  
be bold to sue for grace,  
When this I see abundantly,  
thy goodness will embrace.   

All such as will repent with tears,  
and turn with whole intent,  
And quite refuse their sinful ways,  
and earnestly relent.  
Turn, turn, o Lord, turn then to me  
my heart I rend and tear,  
In death, in life, I am thine own,  
for me thou paidst full dear.   

Land, praise, and thanks, with mind & heart,  
to thee, my God, I give,  
Direct my ways, at end of days,  
in glory let mes live.  
That blessed Ghost may mount to sky  
when worms the body eat,  
Lord hear my suit, & grant me grace  
I humbly thee entreat.    
FINIS   

Printed at London for H. Gosson.