| The Sinner Inveighes Against His Fleshes Frailtie, Desiring God to Strengthen It with His Pow'r, and Grave |
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| My Soule, sad Soule, now sommon al thy Powres |
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| Well, now, these women, that were fled him fro |
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| A Thanksgiving for Our Vocation |
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| The Sinner Recounting His Manifold Transgressions, and Finding Himselfe Thereby in Danger of Perdition, Desireth Grace |
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| O Thou great Kindler of Divine desire |
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| Now Hee's inerr'd that all the World intombes |
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| Of Gods Unutterable Being, with Desire of the Soule to Be Swallowed Up with the Love of His Majestie - |
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| Now rouze thee Muse, prevent Apollo's rising |
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| T'insult upon the wretched, is a Crime |
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