[Jacopone da Todi, Signor, dàme la morte, “Laude”, XII, 13th century.]
Lord, wilt Thou grant me death,
Lest I should grieve Thee more?
Crush my heart to the core,
That in evil continueth.
Lord, it is all in vain
Thy courtesy fair to show,
So black is my spirit's stain,
So evil, thankless, and low.
Nay, end my life at a blow,
That hath spurned and resisted Thee.
Better to slay me, Lord,
Than Thou to be grieved and defied:
I mend not in deed nor word,
Thou seest, in sin I abide.
Condemn the sinner, long tried;
Pronounce Thy sentence on me.
Begin Thy judgment dread,
By taking my health away;
Let my body be sore be-stead,
No more in freedom to stray:
Prosperity, in its day,
It hath used most evilly.
And quench the kindness of man,
That none may pity my state:
For wilful and cruel I ran,
Leaving the sick at the gate.
Lord, leave me disconsolate,
That hushed my singing may be.
Then gather all creatures for this:—
Vengeance on me to wreak:
I have used them all amiss,
Thy righteous laws to break;
Let each, O Lord, for Thy sake,
Trouble and torture me.
O deathless shall be the lament
My heart shall make for my Love!
By ruin and anguish rent,
Deprived of my God above!
My heart, canst thou think thereof,
Unconsumed by misery?
Canst thou think thereof, my heart?
That Sorrowful Love to forsake?
From Him to turn and depart,
Who suffered all for thy sake?
Weep, not for thine own heart-break,
But for His dishonour in thee!
