The Relapse by Henry Vaughan

My God, how gracious art thou! I had slipt
Almost to hell
And on the verge of that dark, dreadful pit
Did hear them yell
But O thy love! thy rich, almighty love
That sav'd my soul
And checkt their fury, when I saw them move
And heard them howl;
O my sole comfort, take no more these ways
This hideous path
And I will mend my own without delays
Cease thou thy wrath!
I have deserv'd a thick, Egyptian damp
Dark as my deeds
Should mist within me, and put out that lamp
Thy spirit feeds;
A darting conscience full of stabs and fears;
No shade but Yew
Sullen, and sad eclipses, cloudy spheres
These are my due
But he that with his blood, (a price too dear,)
My scores did pay
Bid me, by virtue from him, challenge here
The brightest day;
Sweet, downy thoughts; soft lily-shades; calm streams;
Joys full and true;
Fresh, spicy mornings; and eternal beams
These are his due