King of Glorie, King of Peace,

I will love thee:

And that love may never cease,

I will move thee.

Thou hast granted my request,

Thou hast heard me:

Thou didst note my working breast,

Thou hast spar'd me.

Wherefore with my utmost art

I will sing thee,

And the cream of all my heart

I will bring thee.

Though my sinnes against me cried,

Thou didst cleare me;

And alone, when they replied,

Thou didst heare me.

Sev'n whole dayes, not one in seven,

I will praise thee.

In my heart, though not in heaven,

I can raise thee.

Thou grew'st soft and moist with tears,

Thou relentedst:

And when Justice call'd for fears,

Thou dissentedst.

Small it is, in this poore sort

To enroll thee:

Ev'n eternitie is too short

To extoll thee.