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George Herbert - Affliction (II)
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                    Kill me not ev`ry day,
Thou Lord of life; since thy one death for me
            Is more than all my deaths can be,
                    Though I am in broken pay
Die over each hour of Methusalem`s stay.

                     If all men`s tears were let
Into one common sewer, sea, and brine;
              What were they all, compar`d to thine?
                     Wherein if they were set,
They would discolour thy most bloudy sweat.

                      Thou art my grief alone,
Thou, Lord, conceal it not: and as thou art
               All my delight, so all my smart:
                      Thy crosse took up in one,
By way of imprest, all my future mone.
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