Have done these twenty hundred years, and more:

I know the projects of unbridled store:

My stuff is flesh, not brass; my senses live,
And grumble oft, that they have more in me
Than he that curbs them, being but one to five:
Yet I love Thee.

I know all these, and have them in my hand:
Therefore not sealed, but with open eyes
I fly to Thee, and fully understand

Both the main sale, and the commodities;
And at what rate and price I have Thy love;
With all the circumstances that may move:
Yet through the labyrinths, not my grovelling wit,
But Thy silk-twist let down from heaven to me,
Did both conduct and teach me, how by it

To climb to Thee.

AFFLICTION

BROKEN in pieces all asunder,

Lord, hunt me not,
A thing forgot,

Once a poor creature, now a wonder,
A wonder tortured in the space
Betwixt this world and that of grace.

My thoughts are all a case of knives,
Wounding my heart
With scattered smart;
As watering-pots give flowers their lives.
Nothing their fury can control,

While they do wound and prick my soul.

All my attendants are at strife,

Quitting their place
Unto my face:

Nothing performs the task of life:
The elements are let loose to fight,
And while I live, try out their right.

O help, my God! let not their plot
Kill them and me,
And also Thee,

Who art my life: dissolve the knot,
As the sun scatters by his light
All the rebellions of the night.

Then shall those powers, which work for grief,
Enter Thy pay,
And day by day

Labour Thy praise and my relief:

With care and courage building me,
Till I reach heaven, and much more, Thee.

MAN

I this day,

MY nod, heart build a stately habitation,

But he that means to dwell therein.

What house more stately hath there been, Or can be, than is Man? to whose creation All things are in decay.

For Man is everything,

And more: he is a tree, yet bears no fruit;

A beast, yet is, or should be more: Reason and speech we only bring. Parrots may thank us, if they are not mute, They go upon the score.

Man is all symmetry,

Full of proportions, one limb to another,
And all to all the world besides :
Each part may call the farthest, brother:
For head with foot hath private amity,
And both with moons and tides.

Nothing hath got so far,

But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey.
His eyes dismount the highest star:
He is in little all the sphere.

Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they
Find their acquaintance there.

For us the winds do blow;

The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow.
Nothing we see but means our good,
As our delight, or as our treasure:
The whole is, either our cupboard of food,
Or cabinet of pleasure.

The stars have us to bed;

Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws:
Music and light attend our head.

All things unto our flesh are kind
In their descent and being; to our mind
In their ascent and cause.

Each thing is full of duty:

Waters united are our navigation;

Distinguished, our habitation;

Below, our drink; above, our meat:

Both are our cleanliness. Hath one such beauty? Then how are all things neat!

More servants wait on Man, Than he'll take notice of: in every path

He treads down that which doth befriend him, When sickness makes him pale and wan. O mighty love! Man is one world, and hath Another to attend him,

Since then, my God, Thou hast

So brave a palace built; O dwell in it,
That it may dwell with Thee at last!
Till then, afford us so much wit,

That, as the world serves us, we may serve Thee,
And both Thy servants be.

Chor.

ANTIPHON

PRAISE Men. Here below,

RAISED be the God of love,

Angels. And here above:

Chor. Who hath dealt His mercies so,

Ang. To His friend,

Men. And to His foe;

Chor. That both grace and glory tend
Ang. Us of old,

Men. And us in the end.

Chor. The great Shepherd of the fold
Ang. Us did make,

Men. For us was sold.

Chor. He our foes in pieces brake:
Ang. Him we touch;

Men. And Him we take.

Chor. Wherefore since that He is such,
Ang. We adore,

Men. And we do crouch.

Chor. Lord, Thy praises shall be more.
Men. We have none,

Ang. And we no store.

Chor. Praised be the God alone

Who hath made of two folds one.

UNKINDNESS

LORD, make me coy and tender to offend:

In friendship first, I think, if that agree,
Which I intend,

Unto my friend's intent and end.

I would not use a friend, as I use Thee.

If any touch my friend, or his good name,
It is my honour and my love to free
His blasted fame

From the least spot or thought of blame.
I could not use a friend, as I use Thee.