Classic Poem

The Sacrifices of God are a contrite Spirit

A Broken Heart ( deare Lord ) thy Grace respects ,
as Loues best Sacrifice; then, breake my Heart
To make it sound thereby, in his Affects;
and Sinne ( that wounds It still ) from It to part .
How is it (Lord) that whoso seekes thy Face
must with the whole-heart seeke the same to see?
Vet Broken-hearts as soone doe get thy Grace;
so whole or broken, are all One to Thee.

Then , breake my heart, to make it whole: that so
( being broken quite, and made whole afterward )
It in thy Kingdome, still may currant goe ,
made flat to take thy Print, with Pressures hard
That, though the Fiend abuse thy Forme in mee ,
It through thy Test, may currant passe to Thee.