Psalm 93
Clothed with state, and girt with might,
Monarch-like Jehovah reigns,
He who earth's foundation pight — Pight at first, and yet sustains;
He whose stable throne
Clothed with state, and girt with might,
Monarch-like Jehovah reigns,
He who earth's foundation pight — Pight at first, and yet sustains;
He whose stable throne
In nature apt to like when I did see Beauties, which were of many carats fine,
My boiling sprites did thither soon incline,
And,
Love,
The Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
While late-bare Earth, proud of new clothing, springeth, Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making; And mournfully bewailing, Her throat in tunes expres...
With what sharp checks I in myself am shent,
When into Reason's audit I do go:
And by just counts myself a bankrupt know Of all the goods, which heav'n to me hath lent:
Unable quite to pay even Nature's rent,
Who hath his fancy pleased With fruits of happy sight,
Let here his eyes be raised On Nature's sweetest light;
A light which doth dissever And yet unite the eyes,
A light which, dying never, Is cause the looker dies
Fly, fly, my friends,
I have my death wound; fly
See there that boy, that murthering boy I say,
Who like a thief, hid in dark bush doth lie,
Leave me,
O Love, which reachest but to dust; And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust; Whatever fades but fading pleasure brings
Draw in thy beams and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke ...
Reason, in faith thou art well serv'd, that still Wouldst brabbling be with sense and love in me:
I rather wish'd thee climb the Muses' hill,
Or reach the fruit of Nature's choicest tree,
Or seek heav'n's course, or heav'n's inside ...
"Who is it that this dark
Underneath my window plaineth
"'It is one who from thy
Being, ah
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange, one for the other giv'n
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driv'n
The Lord, the Lord, my Shepherd is,
And so can never
Taste misery:
He rests me in green pastures His:
Phoebus was judge between Jove,
Mars, and Love,
Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were:
Jove's golden shield did eagle sables bear,