A short meditation of Mans Miserie

WHat was I, am I, or what shall I be?
I was nought, am nought; and, for ought I do,
Shall be farre worse then nought! ô wretched me!
why? was I borne for nought; and worser too?

This makes me to deplore my Day of Birth;
(sith I was borne to so hard exigent)
As all men doe, that doe enioy the Earth;
yet, so enioy it, as th'are ne'er content.

We hold that Infant but a Prodigie
that in his Birth doth not the World salute
With note of Present-future misery:
for, that's his Birth-right cleare and absolute.

In Sinne Originall was I conceiu'd;
in actuall Sinne I liue; and I may taste
Eternall paine for that I first receiu'd;
with that I liue in now; and that is past.

I, in the Wombe was loathsome; in the World,
a Sacke of all Corruption; in the Graue,
A Prey of Vermine; and may thence be hurl'd
to Hell: if what Sinne spoyles, Grace doe not saue.

When I was nothing, then was I without
Hope to be sau'd, or Feare condemn'd to be:
Now, of the first I hope; but, more doe doubt:
and, of the last stand still in ieopardie.

I was such, as I could not then be damn'd;
but, now am such, as hardly can be sau'd:
For at the first I was in cleannesse fram'd;
but now by me its more then most deprau'd.

Erect (deare Lord) my pristrine Puritie;
correct my present Vices; and direct
My future steps: direct them Sinne to flye,
and, to attaine the Grace of thine Elect:
So shall I praise thy Name (with them) and say:
Blessed be HIM that so inspir'd my Clay.