1Oh that the
2Round whom the planets
3Diurnal, annual, trepidation;
all quick’ning orb keeps still his station,
5Whilst they about his throne dance each his
6According to the great Creator’s pleasure;
7Oh that His
influence, His heat, His light,
8Would clasp this globe, that these sad shades of night
9Might this our
involve no more;
10Nor me the loss of day, so oft deplore.
11Now half our time in horrid night is lost,
12The other half ’twixt hope and fear is tossed,
13Till pain and grief (oh cursed
14’Twixt soul and body) doth dissolve the union.
15Then Death, triumphant, doth perform his
16Grinding (in spite) our very bones to dust,
17Then shuts us in Oblivion’s
18Our infant cradle, now our age’s tomb,
19Till infinite power and love our dust shall raise
20To sing in joys His everlasting praise.
21But though the sun be center unto all
22And our earth’s motion makes him rise and fall
23Yet must his orb confine my thoughts also,
24Must they (ay me) must they no higher go?
25Since first I saw a glimpse of heavenly joy,
26Methinks this world is but a
27And all those glitt’ring
globes that shine like fire
28Are lights hung out to
light my thoughts up higher
29To Him that doth the universe
30Whose word creates, whose breath do all dissolve,
Even Him that total nature doth surround,
32The thought of whom doth my poor soul confound,
33Ay me! who can invisible light behold,
34Or can eternity His age be told?
35If I to contemplate His glory venture,
36Rottenness into my bones doth enter.
Halloo, my thoughts! To native earth descend;
38For thy ambition in the dust must end.
39Yet we may, by the beauty of the creature,
40Conceive the glory of the great Creator,
41He whose incomprehensible power
42Did make the tallest tree and smallest flower,
43Even lofty cedars that on mountains grow
44And humble daisies which in valleys blow.
45The elephant and whale,
He doth dissect,
46The despicablest reptile or insect.
Then will I here my few and evil days
48Make Him the sum and center of my praise.