Black’d with thy branding thunder, and sometimes
Sucking the damps for drink, and eating not
Except the spare chance-gift of those that came
To touch my body and be heal’d, and live.
And they say then that I work’d miracles,
Whereof my fame is loud amongst mankind,
Cured lameness, palsies, cancers. Thou, O God,
Knowest alone whether this was or no.
Have mercy, mercy; cover all my sin.
Then, that I might be more alone with thee,