Griefs which are known too widely and too well
I need not now remember. I could bear
Privation of all Christian ordinances,
The woe which kills hath saved me too, and made
A temple of this ruin’d tabernacle,
Wherein redeeming God doth not disdain
To let his presence shine. And I could bear
To see the turban on my father’s brow, ...
Sorrow beyond all sorrows, ... shame of shames, ...
Yet to be borne, while I with tears of blood,