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…

So I blind wretch, whom Gods inflamed tree with piercing stroke hath thrown unto the ground, Amid my sins still grovelling in the mire, Find not the way that other oft have found, Whom cheerful glimpse of gods abounding grace Hath oft relieved and oft with shining light Hath brought to joy out of the ugly place, Where I in dark of everlasting night Bewail my woeful and unhappy case, And fret my dying soul with gnawing pain. Yet blind, alas, I grope about for grace. While blind for grace I grope about in vain, My fainting breath I gather up and strain, Mercy, mercy to cry and cry again.

So I blinde wretch, whome Gods enflamed tre with pearcing stroke hath throwne vnto ye groūd, Amidde my sinnes still groueling in the myre, Finde not the way that other oft haue found, Whome cherefull glimse of gods abounding grace Hath oft releued and oft with shyning light Hath brought to ioy out of the vgglye place, Where I in darke of euerlasting night Bewayle my woefull and vnhappy case, And fret my dyeng soule with gnawing paine. Yet blinde, alas, I groape about for grace. While blinde for grace I groape about in vaine, My fainting breath I gather vp and straine, Mercie, mercie to crye and crye againe.

But mercy while I sound with shrieking cry▪ For grant of grace and pardon while I pray, Even then despair before my ruthful eye Spreads forth my sin & shame, & seems to say In vain thou brayest forth thy bootless noise To him for mercy, O refused wight, That hears not the forsaken sinners voice. Thy reprobate and foreordained sprite, For damned vessel of his heavy wrath, (As self witness of thy beknowyng hart. And secrete gilt of thine own conscience saith) Of his sweet promises can claim no part: But thee, caitiff, deserved curse doeth draw To hell, by justice, for offended law.

But mercy while I sound with shreking crye▪ For graūt of grace and pardon while I pray, Euen then despeir before my ruthefull eye Spredes forth my sinne & shame, & semes to saye In vaine thou brayest forth thy bootlesse noyse To him for mercy, O refused wight, That heares not the forsaken sinners voice. Thy reprobate and foreordeined sprite, For damned vessell of his heauie wrath, (As selfe witnes of thy beknowyng hart. And secrete gilt of thine owne conscience saith) Of his swete promises can claime no part: But thee, caytif, deserued curse doeth draw To hell, by iustice, for offended law.