 | Poetical works (1908) |  |
Psal. 63.
[O lord, before the morning]
O lord, before the morning
Gives heav'n warning
To let out the day,
My wakefull eyes
Look for thy rise,
And wait to let in thy joyfull ray.
Lank hunger here peoples the desert cells,
Here thirst fills up the emptie wells:
How longs my flesh for that bread without leaven!
How thirsts my soul for that wine of heaven!
Such (oh!) to taste thy ravishing grace!
Such in thy house to view thy glorious face!
Gives heav'n warning
To let out the day,
My wakefull eyes
Look for thy rise,
And wait to let in thy joyfull ray.
Lank hunger here peoples the desert cells,
Here thirst fills up the emptie wells:
How longs my flesh for that bread without leaven!
How thirsts my soul for that wine of heaven!
Such (oh!) to taste thy ravishing grace!
Such in thy house to view thy glorious face!
Thy love, thy light, thy faces
Bright-shining graces,
(Whose unchanged ray
Knows nor morns dawn,
Nor evenings wane)
How farre surmount they lifes winter day!
My heart to thy glorie tunes all his strings;
My tongue thy praises cheerly sings:
And till I slumber, and death shall undresse me,
Thus will I sing, thus will I blesse thee.
Fill me with love, oh fill me with praise;
So shall I vent due thanks in joyfull layes.
Bright-shining graces,
(Whose unchanged ray
Knows nor morns dawn,
Nor evenings wane)
How farre surmount they lifes winter day!
My heart to thy glorie tunes all his strings;
My tongue thy praises cheerly sings:
And till I slumber, and death shall undresse me,
Thus will I sing, thus will I blesse thee.
Fill me with love, oh fill me with praise;
So shall I vent due thanks in joyfull layes.
251
When night all eyes hath quenched,
And thoughts lie drenched
In silence and rest;
Then will I all
Thy waies recall,
And look on thy light in darknesse best.
When my poore soul wounded had lost the field,
Thou wast my fort, thou wast my shield.
Safe in thy trenches I boldly will vant me,
There will I sing, there will I chant thee;
There I'le triumph in thy banner of grace,
My conqu'ring arms shall be thy arms embrace.
And thoughts lie drenched
In silence and rest;
Then will I all
Thy waies recall,
And look on thy light in darknesse best.
When my poore soul wounded had lost the field,
Thou wast my fort, thou wast my shield.
Safe in thy trenches I boldly will vant me,
There will I sing, there will I chant thee;
There I'le triumph in thy banner of grace,
My conqu'ring arms shall be thy arms embrace.
My foes from deeps ascending,
In rage transcending,
Assaulting me sore,
Into their hell
Are headlong fell;
There shall they lie, there howl, and roare:
There let deserv'd torments their spirits tear;
Feel they worst ills, and worse yet fear.
But with his spouse thine anointed in pleasure
Shall reigne, and joy past time or measure:
There new delights, new pleasures still spring:
Haste there, oh haste, my soul, to dance and sing.
In rage transcending,
Assaulting me sore,
Into their hell
Are headlong fell;
There shall they lie, there howl, and roare:
There let deserv'd torments their spirits tear;
Feel they worst ills, and worse yet fear.
But with his spouse thine anointed in pleasure
Shall reigne, and joy past time or measure:
There new delights, new pleasures still spring:
Haste there, oh haste, my soul, to dance and sing.
| Poetical works (1908) | |