Classic Poem

Come, let us sound with melody the praises
Of the kings king, th'omnipotent creator,
Author of number, that hath all the world in
Harmonie framed.

Heav'n is his throne perpetually shining,
His devine power and glorie thence he thunders,
One in all, and all still in one abiding,
Both Father, and Sonne.

O sacred sprite, invisible, eternall,
Ev'ry where, yet unlimited, that all things
Canst in one moment penetrate, revive me,
O holy Spirit.

Rescue, O rescue me from earthly darknes,
Banish hence all these elementall objects,
Guide my soule that thirsts to the lively Fountaine
Of thy devinenes.

Cleanse my soule, O God, thy bespotted Image,
Altered with sinne so that heav'nly purenes
Cannot acknowledge me but in thy mercies,
O Father of grace.

But when once thy beames do remove my darknes,
O then I'le shine forth as an Angell of light,
And record, with more than an earthly voice, thy
Infinite honours.