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Or hath sweetness in the bread

Made a head To subdue the smell of sin, Flowers, and gums, and powders giving

All their living, Lest the enemy should win?

Doubtless, neither star nor flower

Hath the power Such a sweetness to impart: Only God, who gives perfumes,

Flesh assumes, And with it perfumes my heart.

But as Pomanders and wood

Still are good, Yet being bruised are better scented; God, to show how far his love

Could improve, Here, as broken, is presented.

When I had forgot my birth,

And on earth
In delights of earth was drown'd;
God took blood, and needs would be

Spilt with me,
And so found me on the ground.

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For with it alone I fly

To the sky:
Where I wipe mine eyes, and see
What I seek, for what I sue;

Him I view
Who hath done so much for me.

Let the wonder of this pity

Be my ditty,
And take up my lines and life :
Hearken under pain of death,

Hands and breath,
Strive in this, and love the strife.


LET wits contest,
And with their words and posies windows fill:

Less than the least
Of all thy mercies, is my posy still.

This on my ring
This by my picture, in my book I write ;

Whether I sing,
Or say, or dictate, this is my delight.

Invention rest;
Comparisons go play; wit use thy will:

Less than the least
Of all God's mercies, is my posy still.



Soul's joy, when thou art gone,

And I alone,

Which cannot be, Because thou dost abide in me,

And I depend on thee;

Yet when thou dost suppress

The cheerfulness

Of thy abode,
And in my powers not stir abroad,

But leave me to

my load :

O what a damp and shade

Doth me invade!

No stormy night Can so afflict or so affright

As thy eclipsed light.

Ah, Lord ! do not withdraw,

Lest want of awe

Make sin appear ; And when thou dost but shine less clear,

Say, that thou art not here.

And then what life I have,

While Sin doth rave,

And falsely boast,
That I may seek, but thou art lost !

Thou and alone thou know'st.

0. what a deadly cold

Doth me infold !

I half believe,
That Sin says true : but while I grieve,

Thou comest and dost relieve.


TEACH me, my God and King,

In all things thee to see, And what I do in any thing,

To do it as for thee :

Not rudely, as a beast,

To run into an action ;
But still to make thee prepossest,

And give it his perfection.

A man that looks on glass,

On it may stay his eye;
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,

And then the heaven espy.

All may of thee partake :

Nothing can be so mean,
Which with his tincture (for thy sake)

Will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause

Makes drudgery divine:
Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,

Makes that and th' action fine.

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For se osaa tee se si scae six

Or taa Tears bezce,
Aia the loss oe azd sesse,
Fah being tara i to da ad bones to sticks.

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