Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.

De Profundis

IV. George Gascoigne

FROM depth of doole wherein my soule dooth dwell,

From heauie heart which harbors in my brest,

From troubled sprite whych sildome taketh rest,

From hope of heauen, from dreade of darkesome hell,

O gracious God, to thee I crie and yell:

My God, my Lorde, my louely Lorde alone,

To thee I call, to thee I make my mone.

And thou, good God, vouchsafe in gree to take

This wofull plaint

Wherein I faint:—

Oh, heare me then, for thy great mercies sake!

Oh, bende thine eares attentiuely to heare,

Oh, turne thine eies—behold me how I waile;

Oh, hearken, Lorde, giue eare for mine auaile;

Oh, marke in minde the burthens that I beare!

See how I sinke in sorrowes euerywhere;

Beholde and see what dolors I indure;

Giue eare and marke what plaints I put in vre:

Bende willing eare, and pitie therewithall

My wayling voyce,

Which hath no choyce

But euermore upon thy name to call.

If thou, good Lorde, shouldst take thy rod in hande,

If thou regard what sinnes are daylye done,

If thou take hold where wee our workes begone,

If thou decree in iudgment for to stande,

And be extreame to see our ’scuses scand,—

If thou take note of euerythinge amisse,

And wryte in rowles how fraile our nature is,

O gloryous God! O King! O Prince of power!

What mortall wight

May then haue light

To feele thy frowne, if thou haue list to lowre?

But thou art good, and hast of mercye store;

Thou not delyhgtst to see a sinner fall;

Thou hearknest first before wee come to call;

Thine eares are set wyde open euermore;

Before wee knocke, thou commest to the doore:

Thou art more prest to heare a sinner crie

Then he is quicke to climbe to thee on hye.

Thy mighty name bee praysed then alwaye:

Let fayth and feare

True witnesse beare,

Howe fast they stand which on thy mercie staye.

I looke for thee, my louelye Lord, therefore;

For thee I wayte, for thee I tarrye styll:

Mine eies doe long to gaze on thee my fyll;

For thee I watche, for thee I prie and pore:

My soule for thee attendeth euermore;

My soule dooth thyrst to take of thee a tast;

My soule desires with thee for to be plast;

And to thy worde, which can no man deceiue,—

Myne only trust,

My loue and lust,—

In confidence continuallye shall cleaue.

Before the breake or dawning of the daye,

Before the lyght be seene in lofty skies,

Before the sunne appeare in pleasant wyse,

Before the watche—before the watche, I saye,

Before the ward that waits therefore alway,

My soule, my sence, my secreete thought, my sprite,

My wyll, my wish, my ioye, and my delight,

Unto the Lord that sittes in heauen on hie,

With hastie wing,

From me dooth fling,

And stryueth styll unto the Lorde to flie.

O Israel, O housholde of the Lorde,

O Abraham’s brats, O broode of blessed seede—

O chosen sheepe, that loue the Lord indeede—

O hungrye heartes, feede styll upon his worde,

And put your trust in him with one accorde!

For he hath mercye euermore at hande;

His fountaines flowe, his springs doe neuer stand;

And plenteouslye he loueth to redeeme

Such sinners all

As on him call,

And faithfully his mercies most esteeme.

He wylle redeeme our deadly, drowping state;

He wylle bring home the sheepe that goe astray;

He wylle helpe them that hope in him alwaye;

He wylle appease our discorde and debate;

He wylle soon saue, though wee repent us late.

He wylle be ours, if we continue his;

He wylle bring bale to ioye and perfect blis;

He wylle redeeme the flocke of his elect

From all that is,

Or was amisse

Since Abraham’s heires did first his lawes reiect.