THE SIGH.
From the same.
My heart did heave, and there came forth “O God!”
By that I knew that Thou wast in the grief,
(Making a golden sceptre of Thy rod,)
To guide and govern it to my relief.
Hadst Thou not had a more than equal part,
Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart.
But since Thy will my bounds of life assign'd,
Thou know'st my frame: and if a single sigh
Ask so much breath, what then remains behind?
Why! if some years of life together fly,
The swiftly-wafting sigh then only is
A gale to bring me sooner to my bliss!
Thy life on earth was grief: to this Thou still
Art constant, while Thy suffering Majesty,
Touch'd with my misery, feels whate'er I feel,
Adopts my woes, and daily grieves in me.
Thy death was but begun on Calvary;
Thou every hour dost in Thy members die!
