University of Virginia Library



A Thanksgiuing to God for all our temporall blessings.

O praise the Lord for euer.

O heauenly spirit of especiall power,
That in thy hād the praise of praises holdest,
And from the top of truths triumphant tower,
The hidden sence of fairest thoughts vnfoldest:
Inspire this heart and humble soule of mine,
With some sweet sparkle of thy powr diuine.
Teach me to thinke but on that onely thought,
Wherin doth liue the grace of vertues glorie,
And learn no more thē what thy truth hath taught
To those best wits that write thy worthy storie,
Wherein is seene in heauen and earths preseruing,
The highest point of praises due deseruing.


Let not compare come neare vnto none such,
Heauen be my thought, and let the world go by,
And say withall, that say I neuer so much,
All are but trifles to thy treasury:
For all no more then what thy mercie giueth,
Who can behold wherein thy glorie liueth?
No, I can see the shining of the Sunne,
But cannot sound the essence of the light:
Then of thy face, in whom that faire begun,
How can my soule presume to haue a sight?
No my deare God, thy glorie hath a being,
Where eye, nor heart, nor soule may haue a seeing.
And therefore Lord since such thy glorie is,
As cannot be but of thy selfe conceiued:
And heauen nor earth containes that spark of blisse
But from thy hand of mercie is receiued,
What spirit can her sweetest passion raise,
Neare to the due of thy deserued praise?


Yet since all glorie doth belong to thee,
Thy name in all things must be magnified:
And by thy mercie thou hast made me see
How in my soule thou maist be glorified:
In that sweete mercie make my soule to know
How best I may thy blessed glorie show.
O gracious God, what creature can there be,
That moues, or breathes, or growes, but shewes thy glory?
What art or science but doth speak of thee,
And writes the wonder of thy wisedomes story?
What sound or sence can reasons soule refine,
But speakes in glorie of thy grace diuine?
The Sunne in brightnesse glorifies the light
That in the beames but of thy beautie liueth,
The Moone and starres amid the darkest night
Shew what a light thy louing mercie giueth:
So Sun and Moone, and all those shining creatures
Do shew thy glorie in their lightsome natures.


Is not the day a figure of perfection,
Wherein the creatures were created first,
And night of sinne, that with a foule infection
Shewes how the soule is for her sinnes accurst?
But night once past, the glorious day appearing
Shewes sinnes forgiuen, the ioy of mercies chearing.
So Sun, and Moon, and starres, and day, and night,
Speakes of thy glorie in their cause of being:
And how they serue but in obedience right
Vnto thy grace, but of thy will agreeing,
While wisedome shewes in state of reasons storie,
They giue vs light that we may giue thee glorie.
The azure skie more cleare then Christalline,
Wherein the Sune doth cast his beames abroad:
How doth it figure that faire hand of thine,
Wherein thy mercie makes her most abode,
Whilst to the humble soules beleeuing eye,
Thy glorie shines farre brighter then the skie?


The clouds that shed those drops of blessed deawes,
That water the drie places of the earth:
What drop so small, but it thy glorie shewes,
To bring a plentie where was earst a dearth?
How do they figure faithfull sorowes teares,
When sin-burnt soules the fruite of mercie beares?
The ayre that giues each liuing creature breath,
Speakes of thy glorie in that breathing power:
And when it leaues the creature vnto death,
It shewes thy glorie in that parting houre,
To leaue the flesh, so in corruption wounded,
Till grace renew that was in sinne confounded.
The earth that yeelds such choice of fruits & flowers
How doth it shew that glorious power of thine,
When all vnseene do hidden lye those powers,
That art or nature neuer can define?
How sweets, & formes, and colours so should grow,
But that thy glorius will would haue it so.


And as the spring brings forth the budding greene,
With beauties dies for to adorne the field:
So in the winter few or none are seene,
That can the eye contentiue pleasure yeeld,
So that the earth which neuer silence breaketh,
In her dumbe speech yet of thy glorie speaketh.
The sea, wherein those world of fishes liue,
That flote and tumble in the tossing waues:
What notice do they of thy glorie giue,
That from the Whale the little Herring saues?
And makes the Dolphin wound the Whale so sore,
As driues him from the sea to die on shore.
What beast so great, or creeping worme so small,
What bird so high, or of so low a flight,
But that thy name is glorifide in all?
Who hauing made them by thy heauenly might,
Preseru'st them so, that all the world may see,
They haue their being onely but in thee.


The beast his haire, the feather of the bird,
The fish his scale, and euery tree his barke:
These for defence doth nature all afford,
As of thy glorie euery one a marke,
Wherein thy hand of mercie is beheld,
That doth such comfort to each creature yeeld.
Is not the fire a figure of thy wrath,
That soone consumes the proud assault of sinne?
The aire the patience that thy mercie hath,
When true contrition doth remission winne?
The water teares that thou for sinne hast shed,
The earth thy death for to redeeme the dead.
Since then aboue and in the elements,
Sun, Moone, stars, skie, fire, water, earth and aire,
And what may be beneath the firmament,
Beasts, birds, fish, worme, scale, fether, hide or haire,
Nor tree, nor flower, nor herb, nor grasse doth grow
But some way doth thy glorious mercie show.


Shall wretched man, whom God did onely make
To his owne image in his mercies loue,
So farre himselfe and all his good forsake,
As to forget so sweete a Turtle-doue
As his deare God, that so of nothing wrought him,
And his deare Son that hath so dearly bought him?
Shall man I say, that onely speciall creature,
Whom God hath made to serue his Maiestie,
In lacke of grace reueale so vile a nature,
As not to seeke his name to glorifie?
No, heauens forbid, though sinne be neuer such
In man should liue ingratitude so much.
No, he whom God hath made to monarke so
Aboue all creatures that do grow or breathe:
And by his wisedome makes his will to know
The good aboue, and euill from beneath:
And how he helpes the spirit in distresse,
His glorious goodnesse cannot but confesse.


And when he sees with those in-seeing eyes,
That in the soule do giue the spirit light,
In what the height of heauenly glorie lies,
To whom all glorie doth belong of right:
His heart will write in his worths worthy storie,
To him alone be giuen all onely glorie.
O he that sits aboue the starrie skie,
In holy seate of heauenly residence,
And at the twinkling of his glorious eye,
Commaunds the world to his obedience:
Leaue that foule soule in sorrow euer friendlesse,
That doth not sound thy name in glorie endlesse.
All grace, all goodnes, wisedome, power and peace
All truth, true life, all bountie, mercie, loue,
These altogether sing and neuer cease,
Vnto the glorie of this God aboue:
And can it be that man who sees all this,
Will not giue glorie to this God of his?


No, heauens forbid that hell should haue the power
To spit her poison vpon man so much,
To make him liue to that vnhappie houre,
Wherein to shew his wicked nature such,
As to forget Gods gracious goodnesse so,
As not some way his glorious mercie show.
Then let our hearts amongst that world of soules,
That feele his blessings euery day and houre,
While truth records in her eternall roules,
The gracious goodnesse of his glorious power,
Sing in our soules and neuer cease to sing,
All glorie to our God, and honour to our King.