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George Herbert - Sighs And Grones
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               O do not use me
After my sinnes! look not on my desert,
But on thy glorie! then thou wilt reform,
And not refuse me: for thou onely art
The mighty God, but I a sillie worm: 
               O do not bruise me!

               O do not urge me!
For what account can thy ill steward make?
I have abus`d thy stock, destroy`d thy woods,
Suckt all thy magazens: my head did ake,
Till it found out how to consume thy goods:
               O do not scourge me!

               O do not blind me!
I have deserv`d that an Ægyptian night
Should thicken all my powers; because my lust
Hath still sow`d fig-leeves to exclude thy light:
But I am frailtie, and already dust:
               O do not grinde me!

               O do not fill me
With the turn`d viall of thy bitter wrath!
For thou hast other vessels full of bloud,
A part whereof my Saviour emptied hath,
Ev`n unto death: since he died for my good,
               O do not kill me!

               But O reprieve me!
For thou hast life and death at thy command;
Thou art both Judge and Saviour, feast and rod,
Cordiall and corrosive: put not thy hand
Into the bitter box; but O my God,
               My God, relieve me!
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