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George Herbert - Church-Lock And Key
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I know it is my sinne, which locks thine eares,
                    And bindes thy hands!
Out-crying my requests, drowning my tears;
Or else the chilnesse of my faint demands.

But as cold hands are angrie with the fire,
                 And mend it still;
So I do lay the want of my desire,
Not on my sinnes, or coldnesse, but thy will.

Yet heare, O God, onely for his bloud`s sake, 
                 Which pleads for me; 
For though sinnes plead too, yet like stones they make
His bloud`s sweet current much more loud to be.
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