POETRY: Down In The Depth Of Mine Iniquity, by Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke

XCIX

Down in the depth of mine iniquity,
That ugly center of infernal spirits;
Where each sin feels her own deformity,
In those peculiar torments she inherits,
Depriv’d of human graces, and divine,
Even there appears this saving God of mine.

And in this fatal mirror of transgression,
Shows man as fruit of his degeneration,
The error’s ugly infinite impression,
Which bears the faithless down to desperation;
Depriv’d of human graces, and divine,
Even there appears this saving God of mine.

For on this sp’ritual cross condemned lying,
To pains infernal by eternal doom,
I see my Savior for the same sins dying,
And from that hell I fear’d, to free me, come;
Depriv’d of human graces, and divine,
Thus hath his death rais’d up this soul of mine.

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