SINCE then Thou pleased art, deer Lord, To afford To most unworthy ME This sacred Dignitie; In endless Thanks to Thee, oh may That Goodnes force my Heart it self to pay. 2 When to thy dreadfull Altar I Shall draw nigh To wait on Thee, & thence Loves wonders to dispense; Forgive my Sinns, & teach me how To raise my thoughts above all things below. 3 When I thy Lambs to pasture lead; Let me feed Their pretious Soules with sweet And holy wholesome Meat. But cheifly let my Pattern teach Them, what my Toung shall else but faintly preach. 4 When I that Balm to Soules shall deal Which to heal Meek wounded Bosomes, Thou Leftst with thy Church below; O guide my Hand with holy Skill, Least rash in others cures, my self I kill. 5 When Life, or Death, when Honors, Pleasures, Times, & Treasures, Shall tempt me to betray My Functions duty, may Thy Grace my Buckler be, & so No Powers thy feeble Priest shall overthrow. Febr. 27. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 23 by THOMAS CAMPION AN APPEAL TO CATS IN THE BUSINESS OF LOVE; SONG by THOMAS FLATMAN THE COW IN APPLE TIME by ROBERT FROST A RHYME by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE MARGARET FULLER by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT THE WATCHERS by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |