By John Donne

Wilt thou forgive that sin, where I begun,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive those sins through which I run
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When thou has done, thou hast not done,
For, I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that sin, by which I'have won
Others to sinn, and made my sinn their dore?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,

For I have more.

I have a sin of fear that when I have spun
My last thred, I shall perish on the shore;
Sweare by thy self that at my Death, thy Sonne
Shall shine as he shines now, & heretofore;
And having done that, thou hast done,

I fear no more

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