The pomander of prayer, newly madeThe pomaunder of prayer, newly made

Oh do not (I beseech thee most pitiful Lord) write my heinous sins against me, that thou shouldest enter into judgement with thy servant. But ac cording to the multitude of thy mercies, cross & blot out mine in iquities. Woe be unto me wretch that I am, when the day of judg meant cometh, and the books of consciences shall be laid wide open: when it shall be said of me Lo, look upon this fellow & his works: What shall I do then, O Lord my God, when the ⟨p. 125⟩heavens shall reveal and show forth mine iniquity, & the earth shall arise up and testify mine iniquity, against me? Behold I shall be able to give never one word to answer. but to stand in thy presence trembling, quaking, utterly confounded and holding down my head for shame. Alas wretch that I am, what shall I say? I will cry unto thee, o lord my God. Why am I consumed & fretted with holding my peace? But if I should speak: my grief would not cease. And if I hold my peace: I shall be most bitterly vexed within me. Mourn o my soul, & lament as a widow for ⟨image 128⟩her first husband, that she had in her young age. Howl wretch & cry out with weeping because thy spouse Christ hath forsaken thee, O God almighty let not thine anger fall upon me: because that if thou lay so much to my charge as is dew for my sins: it is so much that I can not receive it. Surely my power is not able for to suffer or bear it.

Oh doo not (I beseche thee most pitifull Lorde) write my heynous sinnes against me, yt thou shuldest entre into iudgement with thy seruaunt. But ac cording to the multitude of thy mercies, cros & blot out mine in iquities. Wo be vnto me wretch that I am, when the day of iudg ment commeth, and the bookes of consciences shalbe layd wide open: when it shalbe said of me Lo, looke vpon this felow & his wurkes: What shall I doo then, O Lorde my God, when the hea ⟨p. 125⟩uens shall reuele and shew forth mine iniquitie, & the earth shall arise vp and testifie mine iniquitie, against me? Beholde I shalbe able to geue neuer one wurd to answer. but to stande in thy presence trimbling, quaking, vtterly confounded and holding downe my head for shame. Alas wretch that I am, what shall I say? I will cry vnto thee, o lorde my God. Why am I consumed & fretted with holdīg my peace? But if I should speak: my greef would not cease. And if I hold my peace: I shalbe most bitterly vexed within me. Mourne o my soule, & lament as a widow for