SEEK the Lord, and in His ways persever! O faint not, but as eagles fly, For His steep hill is high! Then striving gain the top and triumph ever! When with glory there thy brows are crowned, New joys so shall abound in thee, Such sights thy soul shall see, That worldly thoughts shall by their beams be drowned. Farewell, World, thou mass of mere confusion! False light, with many shadows dimmed! Old witch, with new foils trimmed! Thou deadly sleep of soul, and charmed illusion! I the King will seek, of Kings adored; Spring of light; tree of grace and bliss, Whose fruit so sovereign is That all who taste it are from death restored. |