Classic Poem

A soull, moving towards its centor:

This world I cannot live upon
Thy self in duty's far beyound
What tounge of angels can say on't.

Then blessed Lord, shew me thy self
Into thy love, let my soull delve
And I'le dispise, this worldly pelf.

I cannot love, this painted world
Though it be bravly, deck'd & curl'd
Oh that out of it I were hurl'd.

Provided, by thy Lovly hand
I were led to emanuells land
Ever before him for to stand.

Thou'rt yet on earth, whether dost run
What is itt that thou wouldst have done
I would see, the light of the sun.

Oh sun, thy beames of glory dart
In duty, still apon my hart
To warm, & quiken, ev'ry part.

Thy sweetnese, I doe somtimes tast
But sin, my comforts soon has chas'd
Thou wilt not lett them run to wast.

It is thy face, Lord, I would see
Extend thy grace, & favour free
Oh call me hence, to live with thee.

Thy lovly beauty, I admire
This fils, my soull, still with desire
Whilst towards perfection I aspire.

Litle small measure's of thy grace
Shall ne're content me, in my race
Oh help me, to grow up apace.

When stormy winds, my soull doe blow
Let graces root more deeply grow
And att thy feet, lett mee ly low.

This world's to me, a meer noyse
no true delight, is in her Joys
All things below thee, ar but toys.

Dear Jesus thou art heavens wonder
Let always, my soull, on thee ponder
Why should time, keep us asunder.

Break through the clouds & come away
Hasten the blessed marage day
Fecth home thy spouse, without delay.

I am thine, by bles'd endenture
Since on thee, I made a venture
Chousing thee, to be my centor.

Oh pity Lord, a lovsick soull
Doe thou my state, sweetly condole
Whilst fainting, on thee I doe roll.

This world I have, & do, disclaim
With all its glory, and its fame
Still glor'ing in thy holy name.

To thee my god, I can apeall
Since first, thou didst thy self reveill
Have I chouse this world, as my weall.

Fain I would bee, safe in thine arms
From present sin, and future harmes
And from the worlds, aluring Charms.

Hapy am I, who am embark'd
With Christ, though somtimes in the dark
My soull, what needst thou then to cark.

Though wilt shortly wipe of my tears
Deliv'ring me from all my fears
When that voice shall sound in my ears.

Thy sins, & sorrows, have an end
Upon me thou shalt still atend
Thy comforts from thee, none shall rend.

Lord Jesus, thou hast said I come
I hear, and therfore cant be dumb
But must cry out, come fecth me home.

Oh lett great grace compensurate
My present, distant, absent, state
Untill my time, were out of date.

Thou knowst, that I want patience
Because to thee, I cant advance
The thoughts of which doth my soull Launce.

Whilst I am here, I sigh, I grone
I call, I cry, I make a moane
Like as a widow, left alone.

Oh thou that dwelst, in heaven high
Help me to wings, that I may fly
To thee, above, the stary sky.

Thy holy will, I must abide
Yet I will lye, att watter side
Waiting, for thy blest wind, and tide.

To cary me o're to the port
Of glory, where thou dost resort
Their I thy praises, shall record.