Father of heaven, and Him, by whom
It, and us for it, and all else for us
Thou mad’st, and govern’st ever, come And re-create me, now grown ruinous: My heart is by dejection, clay.
And by self-murder, red.
From this red earth, O Father, purge Away all vicious tinctures, that new Fashioned I may rise up from death, Before I’m dead.
— John Donne