The Force Of Contrition - Poem by John Abbott
In the first age, when world did new begin,
With many raines thou didst drowne man and sin:
Againe vnto the watery flouds giue scope,
Againe the cataracts of heauen let ope.
We not of Abana and Pharpar dreame,
We must be curd'e in onely Iordan's streame—
Blest streame, which from thy mercies' head doth rise,
And thence descending runneth through our eies.
Waters beginning from earthe's slimie vaines
Not able are to purifie our staines.
Such are those teares which from hel's feare do grow,—
Such are those teares which from self-loue do flow.
The raine which this detested elfe must drowne
Must from aboue, must from high heauen come downe:
Wherefore salt teares for sin send down apace—
O happie dying in such streames of grace !—
A sea of griefe in eu'ry place abound,
And in the waues let vgly sin be drown'd.
Each one of vs a sinner's title beares,—
Let vs be Magdalens in shedding teares:
Of Hesebon, large fish-pondes be our eyes;
The waters wofull plaintes, the fish sad cries.
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