Classic Poem

Like an Hart, the liue-long day
That in thorns and thickets lay,
Rouse thee soul, thy flesh forsake,
Got to relief from thy brake;
Shuddering I would have thee-part,
And at every motion start.
Look behind thee still to see,
If thy frailties follow thee.
Deep in silence of the night,
Take a sweet and stoln delight.
Graze on Clover by this calm,
Precious spring of bleeding Balm,
Thou remembrest how it ran
From his side, thats God and man.
Taste the pleasures of this stream,
Thou wilt think thy flesh a dream.
Nightly this Repast go take,
Got to Relief from thy brake.