View mee, Lord, a worke of thine

View mee, Lord, a worke of thine:

Shall I then lye drown'd in night?

Might thy grace in mee but shine,

I should seeme made all of light.

But my soule still surfets so

On the poysoned baytes of sinne,

That I strange and vgly growe,

All is darke and foule within.

Clense mee, Lord, that I may kneele

At thine Altar, pure and white:

They that once thy Mercies feele,

Gaze no more on earths delight.

Worldly ioyes like shadowes fade,

When the heau'nly light appeares;

But the cou'nants thou hast made,

Endlesse, know nor dayes, nor yeares.

In thy word, Lord, is my trust,

To thy mercies fast I flye;

Though I am but clay and dust,

Yet thy grace can lift me high.