A Prayer For Purification.

Forse perch' d' altrui. Perchance that I might learn what pity is, That I might laugh at erring men no more, Secure in my own strength as heretofore, My soul hath fallen from her state of bliss: Nor know I under any flag but this How fighting I may 'scape those perils sore, Or how survive the rout and horrid roar Of adverse hosts, if I Thy succour miss. O flesh! O blood! O cross! O pain extreme! By you may those foul sins be purified, Wherein my fathers were, and I was born! Lo, Thou alone art good: let Thy supreme Pity my state of evil cleanse and hide-- So near to death, so far from God, forlorn.