A17716:145
Sermons of John Calvin, upon the song that Hezekiah made after he had been…Sermons of Iohn Caluin, vpon the songe that Ezechias made after he had bene…
Sermons of John Calvin, upon the song that Hezekiah made after he had been sick and afflicted by the hand of God, contained in the 38. chapter of Isaiah. Translated out of French into English. 1560.Sermons of Iohn Caluin, vpon the songe that Ezechias made after he had bene sicke and afflicted by the hand of God, conteyned in the 38. chapiter of Esay. Translated out of Frenche into Englishe. 1560.
London: printed by John Day, 1560London: printed by Iohn Day, 1560
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
❧A MEDITATION OF A PENITENT SINNER: WRITTEN IN MANNER OF A Paraphrase upon the 51. Psalm of David.
❧A MEDITATION OF A PENITENT SINNER: VVRITTEN IN MANER OF A Paraphrase vpon the 51. Psalme of Dauid.
¶I have added this meditation following unto the end of this book, not as parcel of master Calvins work, but for that it well agreeth with the same argument, and was delivered me by my friend with whom I knew I might be so bold to use & publish it as pleased me.
¶I haue added this meditation folowyng vnto the ende of this boke, not as parcell of maister Caluines worke, but for that it well agreeth with the same argument, and was deliuered me by my frend with whom I knew I might be so bolde to vse & publishe it as pleased me.
¶The preface, expressing the passioned mind of the penitent sinner.
¶The preface, expressing the passioned minde of the penitent sinner.
The heinous gilt of my forsaken ghost So threats, alas, unto my febled sprite Deserved death, and (that me grieveth most) Still stand so sixth before my dazzled sight The loathsome filth of my distained life, The mighty wrath of mine offended Lord, My Lord whose wrath is sharper than the knife, And deeper wounds than double edged sword, That as the dimmed and fordulled eyen Full fraught with tears & more & more oppressed With growing streams of the distilled brine Sent from the furnace of a griefful breast, Can not enjoy the comfort of the light, Nor find the way wherein to walk aright: