How good is God! Here I am still,

Free from complaint and free from moan,

As had I from a short death risen.

Would I had risen too from sin,

My constant death in life. O Lord,

Crown this your favour with yet more:

And let my self not sleep too long.

Once for three days your friend did sleep

And stank the fourth day when he rose.

How stands it with my flesh corrupt,

And with my fouler soul within?

They stink alike to every sense,

Offend your nose as well as mine;

And so, my Lord, it cannot be

But that this spark of life afresh

Was given me to spend by you.

So my two eyes are not closed;

You make me open one of them:

I dream not, for I see my dreams

Come before my open eyes,

And tell them through to you, my Lord,

And throw them down before your feet

Like the foul rags of those limbs which

Have moved to combat against you,

Yes, against me, who should know better

Yet always of Eve's apple eats.

But now as you do see me yawn,

You have no need to cry as loud

As ‘Lazarus come leave your tomb’;

I know that which he did not know,

I know that you have come to me,

And do not even clutch the hem

Of your all-holy, holiest robe:

It heals me that I trust and know

Hoe Ghij, gezeghen door de wolcken

Ter saligheid van alle volcken,

Voor alle volcken van dijn’ Kerck

Getreden zijt in ‘tbloedigh werck,

En hebt de wyn-pers self getreden;

Met wonderwercken en met reden

De Kieckens van dijn’ eighen’ renn

Vergadert, daer ick een af ben:

Ghij hebt van dijn’ verdoolde schaepen

De Cudde t’samen komen raepen,

En van die Schaepen ben ick een;

Dat weet ick uyt dijn’ eighen’ re’en.

Dat weten kond ick niet bereicken,

Hadt ghij de hand niet willen reicken,

Om mij te slepen uyt den nacht

Van myn’ onkunde sonder macht.

Hebt medelyden met den Weter,

En, dien ghij wel deedt, doet hem beter:

Gedooght niet dat in wetenschap

Mijn wanckelend Geloove slapp’.