SAINT JOHN BAPTIST THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King, Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild, Among that savage brood the woods forth bring, Which he than man more harmless found and mild. His food was locusts, and what young 6 Then burst he forth: All ye, whose hopes rely Only the echoes, which he made relent, CCCLV LITANY TO THE HOLY SPIRIT In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When the house doth sigh and weep, 1 v.l. marble.' LITANY TO THE HOLY SPIRIT When the passing bell doth toll, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tapers now burn blue, And that number more than true, When the priest his last hath pray'd, 'Cause my speech is now decay'd, When, God knows, I'm toss'd about Yet before the glass be out, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tempter me pursu'th When the flames and hellish cries Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When the judgment is reveal'd, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! 321 Herrick. CCCLVI A LITANY DROP, drop, slow tears, And bathe those beauteous feet Which brought from Heaven The news and Prince of Peace: His mercy to entreat: In your deep floods Nor let His eye faults and fears; See sin, but through my tears. CCCLVII Phineas Fletcher. EASTER SONG I GOT me flowers to strew Thy way, I got me boughs off many a tree; But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee. The sun arising in the East, Though he give light and th' East perfume, If they should offer to contest With Thy arising, they presume. A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER Can there be any day but this, Though many suns to shine endeavour? We count three hundred, but we miss : There is but one, and that one ever. 323 Geo. Herbert. CCCLVIII A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER WILT Thou forgive that sin, where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run, And do run still, though still I do deplore? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done; For I have more. Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; But swear by Thyself that at my death Thy Son Shall shine as He shines now and heretofore: And having done that, Thou hast done; I fear no more. J. Donne. |