His Wish to GodViewed 377 times
I would to God, that mine old age might have
Before my last, but here a living grave;
Some one poor almshouse, there to lie, or stir,
Ghost-like, as in my meaner sepulchre;
A little piggin, and a pipkin by,
To hold things fitting my necessity,
Which, rightly us'd, both in their time and place,
Might me excite to fore, and after, grace.
Thy cross, my Christ, fix'd 'fore mine eyes should be,
Not to adore that, but to worship Thee.
So here the remnant of my days I'd spend,
Reading Thy bible, and my book; so end.
Fame’s pillar here at last we set,
Out-during marble, brass or jet;
Charmed and enchanted so
I dreamed this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which crawling one and every way
In this world, the isle of dreams,
While we sit by sorrow’s streams,
Tears and terrors are our themes
Let’s call for Hymen if agreed thou art –
Delays in love but crucify the heart.
Love’s thorny tapers yet neglected lie;
Bid me to live, and I will live
Thy protestant to be;
Or bid me love, and I will give
Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Weigh me the fire; or canst thou find
A way to measure out the wind?
Distinguish all those floods that are
Can I not sin, but thou wilt be
My private protonotary?
Can I not woo thee to pass by
Now is the time for mirth,
Nor cheek or tongue be dumb;
For with the flow'ry earth