When to my eyes (Whilst deep sleep others catches) Thine host of spies The stars shine in their watches, I do survey Each busy ray, And how they work and wind, And wish each beam My soul doth stream, With the like ardour shined; What emanations, Quick vibrations And bright stirs are there! What thin ejections, Cold affections, And slow motions here! 2 Thy heav'ns (some say) Are a fiery-liquid light, Which mingling aye Streams, and flames thus to the sight. Come then, my God! Shine on this blood And water in one beam And thou shalt see Kindled by thee Both liquors burn and stream. O what bright quickness, Active brightness, And celestial flows Will follow after On that water, Which thy spirit blows! |