O Lord of whom I do depend,

behold my careful heart,

And when thy will and pleasure is,

release me of my smart,

Thou seest my sorrows what they are,

my grief is known to thee:

And there is none that can remove

or take the same from me.

But only thou whose aid I crave,

whose mercy still is pressed:

To ease all those that come to thee,

for succor and for rest.

And sith thou seest my restless eyes,

my tears and grievous groan:

Attend unto my suite O Lord,

mark well my ‘plaint and moan.

For sin hath so enclosed me,

And ‘compass me about,

That I am now remediless,

if mercy help not out:

For mortal man cannot release,

or mitigate this pain:

But even thy Christ my Lord, and God,

which for my sin was slain.

Whose bloody wound are yet to see,

though not with mortal eye:

Yet do thy Saints behold them all,

and so I trust shall I.

Though sin doth hinder me a while

when thou shalt see it good,

shall enjoy the sight of him,

and see his wounds and blood.