The Altar from the Temple
A broken A L T A R, Lord, thy servant reares,
Made of a heart, and cemented with teares: Whose parts are as thy hand did frame; No workmans tool hath touch’d the same. A H E A R T alone Is such a stone, As nothing but Thy pow’r doth cut. Wherefore each part Of my hard heart Meets in this frame, To praise thy Name; That, if I chance to hold my peace, These stones to praise thee may not cease.
O let thy blessed S A C R I F I C E be mine,
And sanctifie this A L T A R to be - the original form of this
Form: couplets4.
See Exodus 20:22. 14.
See Luke 10:40.
George Herbert
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Sorrie I am, my God, sorrie I am, That my offences course it in a ring My thoughts are working like a busie flame, Untill their cockatrice they hatch and bring:
The Dawning
Awake, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns: Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth, Unfold thy forehead, gather'd into frowns: Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth: Awake, awake; And with a thankful heart his comforts take, But thou dos...
Man
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