What I such Praises sing! How can it bee? Shall I in Heaven sing? What I, that scarce durst hope to see Lord, such a thing? Though nothing is too hard for thee: One Hope hereof seems hard to mee. What, Can I ever tune those Melodies Who have no tune at all? Not knowing where to stop nor Rise, Nor when to Fall. To sing thy Praise I am unfit. I have not learn'd my Gam-Ut yet. But should these Praises on string'd Instruments Be sweetly tun'de? I finde I nonplust am: for no Consents I ever minde. My Tongue is neither Quill, nor Bow: Nor Can my Fingers Quavers show. But was it otherwise I have no Kit: Which though I had, I could Not tune the strings, which soon would slip Though others should. But should they not, I cannot play: But for an F should strike an A. And should thy Praise upon Winde Instruments Sound all o're Heaven Shrill? My Breath will hardly through such Vents A Whistle fill, Which though it should, its past my spell By Stops, and Falls to sound it Well. How should I then, joyn in such Exercise? One sight of thee'l intice Mine Eyes to heft: Whose Extasies Will stob my Voice. Hereby mine Eyes will bind my Tongue. Unless thou, Lord, do Cut the thong. What Use of Uselesse mee, then there, poore snake? There Saints, and Angels sing, Thy Praise in full Cariere, which make The Heavens to ring. Yet if thou wilt thou Can'st me raise With Angels bright to sing thy Praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PORTRAIT OF A MACHINE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 6. CORRINA by THOMAS CAMPION OLNEY HYMNS: 1. WALKING WITH GOD by WILLIAM COWPER A GARDEN SONG by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON OVERNIGHT, A ROSE by CAROLINE GILTINAN MY SISTER'S SLEEP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |