A prayer of Picus Mirandula vnto god

O holy god of dredefull magestee
Uerely one in.iij. and thre in one
Whom aungelles serue whose werk all creatures be
Whiche heuen and erth directest all alone
We the beseche good lorde with wofull mone
Spare vs wretches & wasshe away our gylt
That we be not by thy iust angre spylt

In stray[…] balance of rygorous iudgement
If thou sholdest our synne pondre and wey
Who able were to bere thy punysshment
The hole engyne of all this worlde I saye
The engyne that enduren shall for aye
With suche examynacyon myght not stande
Space of a moment in thyne angry hande

Who is not borne in synne originall
Who doth actuall synne in sondry wyse
But thou good lorde arte he that sparest all
With pyteouse mercy temperynge iustyce
For as thou doest rewardes vs deuyce
Aboue our meryte / so doest thou dispence
Thy punysshement farre vndre our offence

More is thy mercy farre then all our synne
To gyue them also that vnworthy be
More godly is and more mercy therin
Howbehit: worthy Inough are they perdee
Be they neuer so vnworthy: whom that he
Lyst to accept where so euer he taketh
Whom he vnworthy fyndeth worthy maketh

Wherfore good lorde that aye mercyfull arte
Unto thy grace and souerayne dygnyte
We sely wretches crye with humble herte
Oure synnes forget and our malygnite
With pyteous eyes of thy benygnyte
Frendly loke on vs ones thyne owne
Seruaūtes or synners whether hit lyketh the

Synners yf thou our cryme beholde certayne
Our cryme the warke of our vncorteyse mynde
But yf thy gyftes thou beholde agayne
Thy gyftes noble wonderfull and kynde
Thou shalte vs then the same persones fynde
Which are to the and haue be longe space
Seruauntes by nature chyldren by thy grace

But this thy goodnes wryngeth vs alas
For we whom grace had made thy chyldren dere
Are made thy gylty folke by our trespace
Synne hath vs gylty made this many a yere
But let thy grace / thy grace that hath no pere
Of our offence surmounten all the preace
That in our synne thyne honour may encreace

For though thy wisdom / though thy souerayn powre
May other wyse appere suffycyently
As thynges whiche thy creatures euery houre
All with one voyce declare and testyfye
Thy goodnes: yet thy synguler mercy
Thy pyteous herte thy garcyous indulgence
Nothynge so clerely sheweth as our offence

What but our synne hath shewed that myghty loue:
Whiche able was thy dredfull magestee
To drawe downe in to erth fro heuen aboue
And crucyfye god / that we poore wretches we
Sholde from our fylthy synne I clensed be
With blode and water of thyne owne syde
That stremed from thy blyssed woundes wyde

Thy loue and pyte thus o heuenly kynge
Our euyll maketh: mater of thy goodnes
O loue o pyte our welth ay prouydynge
O goodnes seruyng thy seruauntes in distres
O loue o pyte well nygh now thankles
O goodnes myghty gracyous and wyse
And yet almost now vaynquysshed with our vyce

Graunt I the praye suche hete in to myne herte
That to this loue of thyne may be egall
Graunt me fro sathanas seruyce to astert
With whom me rueth so longe to be thrall
Graunt me good lorde and creatour of all
The flame to quenche of all synfull desyre
And in thy loue set all myne herte a fyre

That whan the iournay of this deedly lyfe
My sely goost hath fynysshed and thense
Departen must: without his flesshly wyfe
Alone in to his lordes hygh presence
He may the fynde: o well of indulgence
In thy lordeshyp not as a lorde: but rather
As a very tendre louynge father.

Amen.