 | Devotions in the ancient way of offices |  |
413
Office of the SAINTS.
MATINS.
415
Hymn XXXVI.
[Awake my soul, chace from thine eys]
Awake my soul, chace from thine eys
This drowsy sloth, and quickly rise;
Up, and to work apace:
No less then Kingdoms are prepar'd,
And endless blyss, for their reward,
Who finish wel their race.
This drowsy sloth, and quickly rise;
Up, and to work apace:
No less then Kingdoms are prepar'd,
And endless blyss, for their reward,
Who finish wel their race.
'Tis not so poor a thing to be
Servants to heav'n, dear Lord, and Thee,
As this fond world believes:
Not even here, where oft the Wise
Are most expos'd to injurys,
And friendles vertue grieves.
Servants to heav'n, dear Lord, and Thee,
As this fond world believes:
Not even here, where oft the Wise
Are most expos'd to injurys,
And friendles vertue grieves.
Somtimes thy hand lets gently fall
A litle drop, that sweetens all
The bitter of our Cup;
O what herafter shal we be,
When we shal have whole draughts of Thee,
Brim-ful and drink them up!
A litle drop, that sweetens all
The bitter of our Cup;
O what herafter shal we be,
When we shal have whole draughts of Thee,
Brim-ful and drink them up!
Say happy souls, whose thirst now meets
The fresh and living stream of sweets,
Which spring from that blest throne:
Did you not find this true ev'n here,
Do you not find it truer there,
Now heav'n is all your own?
The fresh and living stream of sweets,
Which spring from that blest throne:
Did you not find this true ev'n here,
Do you not find it truer there,
Now heav'n is all your own?
416
O yes, the sweets we tast exceed
All we can say, or you can read;
They fil, and never cloy:
On earth our cup was sweet, but mixt;
Here all is pure, refin'd, and fixt;
All Quintessence of joy.
All we can say, or you can read;
They fil, and never cloy:
On earth our cup was sweet, but mixt;
Here all is pure, refin'd, and fixt;
All Quintessence of joy.
Hear'st thou my soul what glorious things
The Church of heav'n in triumph sings
Of their blest life above?
Chear thy faint hopes, and bid them live;
All these thy God to thee will give;
If thou imbrace his love.
The Church of heav'n in triumph sings
Of their blest life above?
Chear thy faint hopes, and bid them live;
All these thy God to thee will give;
If thou imbrace his love.
Great God, of rich rewards, who thus
Hast crown'd thy Saints, and wilt crown us!
As Both to Thee belong
O may we both together sing
Eternal praise to thee our King,
In one eternal song.
Hast crown'd thy Saints, and wilt crown us!
As Both to Thee belong
O may we both together sing
Eternal praise to thee our King,
In one eternal song.
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