Classic Poem

— — One half of me was up and dressed,
— — The other still in lazy rest;
— — For yet my prayers I had not said;
— — When I close at her matins heard
A dainty-tonguid bird,
Who little thought how she did me upbraid.

— — But guilt caught hold of every note,
— — And through my breast the anthem shot;
— — My breast heard more than did my ear,
— — For now the tune grew sharp and chode
Me into thoughts of God,
To whom most due my earlier accents were.

— — How shall I blush enough to see
— — Poor birds prevent my praise to thee!
— — Dear Lord, my muse for pardon pants
— — And every tardy guilty tone
Doth languish to a groan:
Alas, to-day she sings not, but recants.

— — Forgive, forgive my lazy rhyme,
— — Which in its music keeps not time:
— — If thy sweet patience lets me borrow
— — Another morn of life, I give
My promise here to strive
Before the lark to be at heaven to-morrow.