ALMIGHTIE Judge, how shall poore wretches brook Thy dreadful look, Able a heart of iron to appall, When thou shalt call For ev'ry mans peculiar book? What others mean to do, I know not well; Yet I heare tell, That some will turn thee to some leaves therein So void of sinne. That they in merit shall excell. But I resolve, when thou shalt call for mine, That to decline, And thrust a Testament into thy hand: Let that be scann'd. There thou shalt finde my faults are thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FRIEND I CAN'T FIND by JAMES GALVIN PANDOSTO, THE TRIUMPH OF TIME: IN PRAISE OF HIS BEST-BELOVED FAWNIA by ROBERT GREENE A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 2 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE HWOMESTEAD by WILLIAM BARNES PSALM 5. VERBA MEA AURIBUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE STANZAS TO AUGUSTA (2) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. FROM TURIN TO PARIS by EDWARD CARPENTER |