Pardon me God, (once more I Thee intreat) That I have plac'd Thee in so meane a seat, Where round about Thou seest but all things vaine, Uncircumcis'd, unseason'd, and prophane. But as Heavens publike and immortall Eye Looks on the filth, but is not soil'd thereby; So Thou, my God, may'st on this impure look, But take no tincture from my sinfull Book: Let but one beame of Glory on it shine, And that will make me, and my Work divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I, TOO by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES SONNET: ADDRESSED TO HAYDON (1) by JOHN KEATS AN INTERVIEW WITH MILES STANDISH by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SHREWSBURY NIGHT by CHARLES WARE BORDEN LYRIC by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |