I.

Thou hast made me, And shall thy worke decay? Repaire me now, for now mine end doth haste, I runne to death, and death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday; I dare not move my dimme eyes any way, 5 Despaire behind, and death before doth cast Such terrour, and my feeble flesh doth waste By sinne in it, which it t'wards hell doth weigh; Onely thou art above, and when towards thee By thy leave I can looke, I rise againe; 10 But our old subtle foe so tempteth me, That not one houre my selfe I can sustaine; Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his art, And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart.

[Holy Sonnets. _1633-69_ (_following_ La Corona _as second group under the same general title_), _W:_ Devine Meditations. _B_, _O'F_, _S96:_ _no title_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _TCC_, _TCD_. _See note_]

[I. _1635-69_, _B_, _O'F_, _S96_, _W:_ _omitted_ _1633_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _TCC_, _TCD_]

[4 yesterday; _Ed:_ yesterday, _1635-69_]

[7 feeble _1635-69:_ febled _B_, _O'F_, _S96_, _W_]

[12 my selfe I can _1635-69:_ I can myself _B_, _S96_, _W_

sustaine; _1669:_ sustaine, _1635-54_]