 | Miscellaneous works of George Wither |  |
A HYMNE Of Confession and Praise.
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Lord , Thou from dust didst raise me,When I no being had,
And I in flesh to praise thee,
A living Soul was made:
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As I am bound to do,
Still henceforth let me praise thee,
In Soul and Body too.
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To have thy Will fulfilled,To thee, I oft have pray'd;
Which, that I truly willed,
Now, comes it to be tride:
And, that, my Soul obeys thee,
As thov thy VVill mak'st known,
I am resolv'd to praise thee,
By laying down mine own.
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Thy Servants are confounded,This day with shame of face,
And with great Plagues surrounded
For their neglects of Grace;
On us therefore to praise thee
A Judgement is begun,
In which, my hrart, to praise thee
Still cries, thy Will be done.
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And, since by my Transgressions,The breach was wider made,
I will by my Confessions
Vnto thy Glory add:
Oh! make thou them to praise thee
So hearty and sincere;
That, other men to praise thee
Their failings may declare.
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Me, thou hast not correctedWith worse or sharper things
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Vpon the greatest Kings:
By Charity to praise thee
Their wants thou then supplid'st;
And, now to make me praise thee,
That way for me provid'st.
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Nought heretofore I wantedWherewith to give thee praise;
But, what to me was granted,
I wasted otherwayes:
And, since I did not praise thee
when I enjoyed most,
I now am come to praise thee
When all I had is lost.
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Oft, when my Conscience chid me,I, in my sins went on;
She therefore lately led me
To what hath me undone:
Yet, that, at last will praise thee,
For which, I suffer must;
And I confesse to praise thee,
That all thy ways are just.
8
The portion by thee given,I, on my Lusts have spent;
Sinn'd against Thee and Heaven,
For which, I now repent:
And since I did not praise thee
As I oblig'd have been,
I meekly now do praise thee
In suff'rings for my sin.
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9
Of earthly Joys and PleasureThat most desired are,
To me in ample measure
Thou didst vouchsafe a share;
But, I for them to praise thee
Performed not my part;
And therefore, now I praise thee
With sad and contrite heart.
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An honest ReputationOn me thou hast bestown,
That, to this Generation
Thy praise I might make known,
But by what I should praise thee,
I sought a fruitless fame;
And therefore now I praise thee
For my Reproach and shame.
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Of Good Men, much esteemedI rend'red was by thee;
But, better oft I seemed
Then I could truly be:
I therefore now do praise thee
That my Defects were hid,
And, that, some now dispraise me
For what I never did.
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To thee I am a DebterFor what I most esteem;
(No earthly blessing better
Deserving Thanks doth seem)
And for the same, still praise thee,
Though lately for my sin,
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A bitter-sweet hath been.
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But, sharp and sweets together(Through all my life-time past)
And, single shares of either
So timely, deign'd thou hast:
That, I not only praise thee
For what most sweet appear'd;
But, also, truly praise thee
For what I shun'd and fear'd.
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Thou didst with Robes adorn me,VVhich men of Honour weare,
That Fools the lesse might scorn me
VVhen I thy praise declare:
But, what thou gav'st to praise thee,
I did to folly turn:
And therefore, now I praise thee
In Garments thred-bare-worn.
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To, thousands, much delightfull,My youthful days were made;
My Heart was blithe, and sprightfull
Thy praise the more was spread
But, I with them to praise thee
Did not what should be done;
For which, I'm left to praise thee
all day and night, alone.
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My private Faith infringedto others and to thee,
Thou lately hast avenged
by publique breach to me:
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For that just doom of thine;
Oh! make them also praise thee
whose sins have punishd mine.
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In spight of their Oppressionswho my Destruction sought,
Thou gav'st me large possessions,
which now are come to nought:
And since I did not praise thee
when I enjoyed more,
I justly now do praise thee
in Wants, Distresse, and Poor.
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I, heretofore, had fulnessOf every pleasant meat,
Which brought on me a dulnesse,
That made me thee forget:
And therefore now to praise thee.
Affliction, bread prepares;
And thou dost make me praise thee,
in drinking of my tears.
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Like Baruch, out of seasonThings for my selfe I sought;
Missed by Carnal Reason,
Lent, borrow'd, built, and bought,
But, left the way to praise thee
That's taught me in thy Schools,
And therefore now to praise thee
I, numbred am with Fools.
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Yet, as to sink me lower,Scorns, Wrongs, and Wants encrease;
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Hope thrives, and Fears grow less.
To move me to dispraise thee,
The more my Temper tries,
My Spirit, still, to praise thee,
A pitch the higher flies.
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Though I my self have nothing,In thy hands all things be:
And harbour, food, and cloathing
Thou wilt provide for me:
For thou hast means to praise thee
Stird up in ev'ry Town,
Whereby each man may praise thee
Who hath not of his own.
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And for Repute or TreasuresI will not thee implore;
For friends lands, goods or pleasures
Enjoyed heretofore.
I, rather, ask to praise thee,
what most extols thy Name,
Although it be to praise thee,
In Sorrow, Death, and Shame.
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Whilst here my sins benight me,Still cause thy Face to shine:
For that will more delight me,
Then Corn, and Oyl, and Wine.
And though oppression weighs me
Quite down unto the ground,
I, with more joy shall praise thee,
Then when wealth did abound.
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And whatsoe'r betide meI will not change my Case,
VVith any who derides me,
Nor shall distrust thy Grace,
My soul desires to praise thee,
and loves thy praise so well,
that, might I there best praise thee
Thee, praise I would in HELL
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For, Thee to love thou mov'st me,which shews thou lovest Me,
And doubtless whilst thou lovest me,
Ev'n Hell a Heaven would be:
Since, Love enough to praise Thee,
He, that could thither bear,
Should make the Devils praise thee,
And, quench the Fires there.
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For LOVE all things created,Subdued Hell and Death;
Thy Law it hath compleated,
Outlasteth Hope and Faith.
Thou, when that love doth praise thee
Givest best respects thereto;
And, till in love we praise thee,
In vain is all we do.
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Were I therefore bereavenOf all that's called mine,
Of Body, Soul, and Heaven,
My love should live in thine:
And, as I then did praise thee,
when I no Being had;
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When I am quite unmade.
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But, never comprehendedCan be thy Love to me;
And therefore never ended
My Songs of praise must be:
A Hymne wherein to praise thee
I have on earth begun;
And better hope to praise thee
When this short life is done:
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Then, when asleep Death lays me,LORD, let me from the Grave
(where Dead-men cannot praise thee
A Joyful Rising have:
Let those likewise who praise thee,
With me, whilst I am here,
Where Saints and Angels praise thee,
(To praise thee) meet me there.
| Miscellaneous works of George Wither | |