XIII. Anonymous

VICTORIOUS Jesus, though my heart

Doth neither wealth nor beauty bring,

Nor wit, nor worth, nor any thing

That claimes a merit or desert;

Do not, oh do not say, Depart.

For as some names to deeds are set,

Not to convey an interest,

But some great matter to attest;

So though I nothing bring thou’lt get,

Fresh witnesse thou art faire and great.

My breast was once most surely steel’d,

With loue, and lust, and world, and sense,

Both for assault and for defence;

But when thy beauties came in field,

My armed heart was forced to yield.

Thy beauties then may conquest boast

Of all the world, because to me

Wit, beauty, pleasure, all are lost,

And whatsoever else there bee

That can pretend no right to thee.

Then as thy captive use thou me,

Food, labour, and defence afford;

Let words and lookes be gentle, Lord;

That others yet uncaught and free,

May wish to loose their liberty.