Anne Bradstreet: [Deliverance] From Another Sore Fit

[Deliverance] From Another Sore Fit

 In my distress I sought the Lord When naught on earth could comfort give, And when my soul these things abhorred, Then, Lord, Thou said'st unto me, "Live."  Thou knowest the sorrows that I felt; My plaints and groans were heard of Thee, And how in sweat I seemed to melt Thou help'st and Thou regardest me.  My wasted flesh Thou didst restore, My feeble loins didst gird with strength, Yea, when I was most low and poor, I said I shall praise Thee at length.  What shall I render to my God For all His bounty showed to me? Even for His mercies in His rod, Where pity most of all I see.  My heart I wholly give to Thee; O make it fruitful, faithful Lord. My life shall dedicated be To praise in thought, in deed, in word.  Thou know'st no life I did require Longer than still Thy name to praise, Nor ought on earth worthy desire, In drawing out these wretched days.  Thy name and praise to celebrate, O Lord, for aye is my request. O grant I do it in this state, And then with Thee, which is the best.