TO GOD ON HOLY FRIDAY, THE ELEVENTH ANNIVERSARY OF HIS FOLLY

Father of heaven! after the days all lost,
After the nights on foolish fancies spent
In that fierce passion's proud imprisonment,
Seeing her beauty to my bitter cost;
Please Thee, with Thine illuminating ghost
Of grace, to new light, worthier intent
Return me, so that Love's snares may be rent
Asunder and my cruel foe be crossed.
Already now, O Lord, the eleventh year
Waxes and wanes, since first his pitiless yoke
Fell on me, that most furious charioteer;
Thy mercy on my meekness I invoke:
To nobler ends my wandering thoughts decree,
Reminding them of Thy Son on His Tree.