Classic Poem

Great Fount of light, whose overflowing streams
Lend stars their dimmer sparks, Suns brighter beams,
Thy mouth spoke light, thy hands at first did shed it
Along the skie, and through the ayer did spred it,
So shadedst earth with curtains of the night,
And drewst those curtains to give days their light.
Then gathering all that scattered light, compactedst
In one vast burning Lamp, and strait enactedst
That all less lights should beg their borrowed beams,
And from that fountain fill their narrow streams:
So that more spiritual, and sacred ray
Which rising from thy mouth gave spirits day,
In those first ages had no certain sphere,
But breath'd by thee, shin'd forth from mouth to ear;
At length collected by thy gracious Spirit,
Fills all the world with light, with life, and spirit.
There I behold thy self, thy Lamb, and Dove,
Shining in grace, burning in heavenly love:
There I my death, and thine; thy power, my duty
See, and by seeing change into thy beautie.
Lord let thy light draw off my wandring eyes
From empty forms, and lying vanities;
Oh fix them on thy self, and make me see
(My Light!) in all things nothing, all in thee.
Thou boughtst me all, oh make me all thine own;
Be all in me, I all in thee alone.