Holy Sonnet IV: Oh My Black Soul! Now Art Thou Summoned

1Oh my black soul! now art thou summoned

2By sickness, death's herald, and champion;

3Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done

4Treason, and durst not turn to whence he is fled;

5Or like a thief, which till death's doom be read,

6Wisheth himself delivered from prison,

7But damned and haled to execution,

8Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.

9Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack;

10But who shall give thee that grace to begin?

11Oh make thy self with holy mourning black,

12And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;

13Or wash thee in Christ's blood, which hath this might

14That being red, it dyes red souls to white