That we are naturally bent to Ill, but supernaturally to Goodnesse

TWixt Sinne and Grace, I tost am to, and fro,
as mine Affections please to bandy me:
From Grace, to Sinne I flye; but, backe, I goe;
and yet I goe as one that faine would flee.

Nature doth moue the Wings of my Desire
to Sinne-wards nimbly; but, not so to Grace:
For, then she limes them with my fleshes myre,
that I am forc'd to passe an heauy pace.

Yet still I stirre those Wings, and seeke to breake
faile fleshes Bands; too strong, for me (too fraile)
Who though, sometimes, I faile of what I seeke,
yet seeke I what I finde, and neuer faile:
For, none seekes Grace that hath not Grace in hold:
Then, Seekers find, though oft lesse then they would.