Classic Poem

If that a sinner's sighs be angels' food,
Or that repentant tears be angels' wine;
Accept, O Lord! in this most pensive mood
These hearty sighs and tears of mine:
That went with Peter forth most sinfully;
But not with Peter wept most bitterly.

If I had David's crown to me betide,
Or all his purple robes that he did wear;
I would lay then such honour all aside,
And only seek a sackcloth weed to bear:
His palace would I leave, that I might show
And mourn in cell for such offence, my woe.

There should these hands beat on my pensive breast;
And sad to death, for sorrow rend my hair:
My voice to call on Thee, should never rest;
Whose grace I seek, Whose judgment I do fear.
Upon the ground, all grovelling on my face,
I would beseech Thy favour and good grace!

But since I have not means to make the show
Of my repentant mind, and yet I see
My sin, to greater heap than Peter's grow,
Whereby the danger more it is to me:
I put my trust in His most precious blood,
Whose life was paid to purchase all our good.

Thy mercy greater is than any sin!
Thy greatness none can ever comprehend!
Wherefore, O Lord! let me Thy mercy win,
Whose glorious name, no time can ever end:
Wherefore, I say, " All praise belongs to Thee! "
Whom I beseech be merciful to me.