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O give me, then, a thankful heart! a heart
So after thine, that all and ev'ry part
O hear! yet not my tears alone,
A floud that drowns both tears and grones,
KING of comforts! King of life!
And when fears and doubts were rife,
Not a nook in all my breast
Not a thought, that breaks my rest,
Wherefore with my utmost strength
And, as thou giv'st line and length,
Day and night, not once a day,
And thy promise, 'till made even, There shall feast me.
Then thy sayings, all my life,
With thy grones, my daily breath I will measure;
And my life, hid in thy death,
Though then thou art,
All perfect fulness,
And canst no whit
From dust and dulness;
Yet to thy name,
With thy bright essence,
If then, dread Lord,
When thou hast made
Let him, though poor,
That one poor blossome.
O THOU that lovest a pure and whitend soul!
Open my desolate rooms; my gloomie brest
Thou holy, harmless, undefil'd High Priest!
Give to thy wretched one
That, absent, he may see,
Let him so follow here, that, in the end,
Give him thy private seal,
Give him, with pitty, love,
Two flowres that grew with thee above;
Love that shall not admit
Anger for one short fit;
And pitty of such a divine extent,
Give me, my God! thy grace,
I take thy sacred feast,
Or the dread mysteries of thy best bloud
Some sit to thee, and eat
Thy body as their common meat;
Poor dust should ly still low;
Then kneel, my soul and body, kneel and bow; If saints and angels fall down, much more thou.
THOU whose sad heart and weeping head lyes low, Whose cloudy brest cold damps invade,
Who never feel'st the sun nor smooth'st thy brow, But sitt'st oppressed in the shade,
And in his resurrection partake,
Who on this day, that thou might'st rise as he, Rose up, and cancell'd two deaths due to thee.
Awake! awake! and, like the sun, disperse