Oh, to vex me, contraryes meet in one;
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begott
A constant habit; that, when I would not,
I change in vowes and in devotione.
As humorous is my contritione
As my profane love, and as soone forgott,
As riddlingly distemper'd, cold and hot;
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view Heaven yesterday; and, to day,
In prayers and flattering speeches, I court God;
To morrow I quake with true feare of His rod.
So my devout fitts come and go away,
Like a fantastic ague: save that here
Those are my best days, when I shake with fear.
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