Sunday Sonnet.

The paraphrase continues, and the text Locke wrote a sonnet on here is Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. (Ps 51:9). Locke, as a Christian, prays as we all ought: Look not how I/Am foul by sin; but make me by your grace/Pure in thy mercies sake.

Loke on me, Lord: though tre[m]bling I beknowe,
That sight of sinne so sore offendeth thee,
That seing sinne, how it doth ouerflowe
My whelmed soule, thou canst not loke on me,
But with disdaine, with horror and despite.
Loke on me, Lord: but loke not on my sinne.
Not that I hope to hyde it from thy sight,
Which seest me all without and eke within.
But so remoue it from thy wrathfull eye,
And from the iustice of thyne angry face,
That thou impute it not. Looke not how I
Am foule by sinne: but make me by thy grace
Pure in thy mercies sight, and, Lord, I pray,
That hatest sinne, wipe all my sinnes away.

Anne Locke, Meditations of Penitent Sinner.