Classic Poem

Reflection.

My soull, my soull, what didst thou get
By wandring from thy god
By running, from thy dearest head
Dost long, to feell the rod.

Come tell me now dost like the smart
Is his displeasure sweet,
Wilt thou on cretures set thine hart
Hee'l spurn thee with his feet.

Has god a baren wildernese
Been unto thee my soull?
Or yet a land of darknese
That thou from him, didst prcle.

Oh what! a sottish fooll am I!
To leave the fountain head
And chouse out cirterns, crakt, & dry
Which cannot help att, need.

Oh when shall I, learn to be wise
By what I still doe feell
And henceforth, take better advise
Then to this world, to kneell.

Whatever is to me most deer
If't steall my hart from thee
Though to me itt, lye ne're soe neer
Lord tear't away from mee,

My god is Jealouse of my love
Hee'l not have cretures share
Oh let me not, from thee once move
Henceforth, for any fare.

If I begin att any time
To stray away from thee
Oh pull me back, by that sweet line
Wherwith I'me ty'd to three.

Lord bring me home, though in a storm
Suffer me not to stray,
Out of thy pastures wide, and warm
Least I, become a prey.