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Things present shrink and die : but they that spend
Their thoughts and sense
But it extend,
God chains the dog till night: wilt loose the chain,
And wake thy sorrow ?
And then again
Either grief will not come: or if it must,
Do not forecast:
Away distrust :
King of glory, King of peace,
I will love thee :
I will move thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
Thou hast heard me :
Thou hast spared me.
Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing thee,
And the cream of all my
Though my sins against me cried,
Thou didst clear me;
Thou didst hear me.
Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise thee.
I can raise thee.
Thou grew'st soft and moist with tears,
Thou relentedst :
Small it is, in this poor sort
To enrol thee :
To extol thee.
CXVIII. AN OFFERING.
Come, bring thy gift. If blessings were as slow
O that within us hearts had propagation,
But all I fear is, lest thy heart displease,
There is a balsam, or indeed a blood,
[close Dropping from heaven, which doth both cleanse and All sorts of wounds; of such strange force it is. Seek out this All-heal, and seek no repose, Until thou find, and use it to thy good : Then bring thy gift ; and let thy hymn be this ;
Yet thy favour
May give savour
And it raise
To be thy praise,
With sick and famish'd eyes, With doubling knees and weary bones,
To thee my cries,
To thee my groans, To thee my sighs, my tears ascend :
My throat, my soul is hoarse ; My heart is wither'd like a ground
Which thou dost curse.
My thoughts turn round, And make me giddy; Lord, I fall,
From thee all pity flows. Mothers are kind, because thou art,
And dost dispose
To them a part: Their infants, them; and they suck thee
Bowels of pity, hear !
Bow down thine ear !
Let not the wind Scatter my words, and in the same
Thy name !
Look on my sorrows round ! Mark well my furnace ! O what flames,
What heats abound !
What griefs, what shames ! Consider, Lord; Lord, bow thine ear,
And hear !
Lord Jesu, thou didst bow Thy dying head upon the tree:
O be not now
More dead to me!
Behold, thy dust doth stir; It moves, it
it aims at thee :
To succour me,
To thee help appertains. Hast thou left all things to their course,
And laid the reins
Upon the horse ?