Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/123

 On her Hiijhand''s fafe Rct2tru. 39

Confufion feafes on my Soul, And I am fill'd with fhame.

��O thov that heareft Prayers, Lord, To Thee fhall come all fflefh;

Thou haft me heard and anfwered, My 'Plaints haue had accefle.

What did I afk for but thov gav'ft?

What could I more defire ? But Thankfullnes, even all my dayes,

I humbly this Require.

Thy mercyes. Lord, haue been fo great,

In nvmber nvmberles, Impoffible for to recovnt

Or any way exprefle.

O help thy Saints that fovght thy fface,

T' Return vnto thee Praife, And walk before thee as they ought.

In ftri6t and vpright wayes.

��This was the laft Thing written in that Book by my dear and hon'd Mother.

�� �