THROW away Thy rod, Throw away Thy wrath;    O my God, Take the gentle path! For my heart’s desire

Immortal Heat, O let thy greater… Attract the lesser to it: let thos… Which shall consume the world, fir… And kindle in our hearts such true… As may consume our lusts, and make…

Lord, to my words incline thine ea… My meditation weigh: My King, my God, vouchsafe to hea… My cry to thee, I pray. Thou in the morn shalt hear my mon…

Full of rebellion, I would die, Or fight, or travel, or deny That thou has aught to do with me. O tame my heart; It is thy highest art

Lord, with what care hast Thou be… Parents first season us; then scho… Deliver us to laws;—they send us b… To rules of reason, holy messenger… Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow doggi…

Oh all ye, who pass by, whose eyes… To worldly things are sharp, but t… To me, who took eyes that I might… Was ever grief like mine? The Princes of my people make a h…

Kill me not ev’ry day, Thou Lord of life, since thy one… Is more than all my deaths can be, Though I in broken pay Die over each hour of Methusalem’…

I Got me flowers to straw Thy way… I got me boughs off many a tree; But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought’st Thy sweets along w… The sunne arising in the East,

Immortal love, authour of this gre… Sprung from that beautie which can… How hath man parcel’€™d out thy gl… And thrown it on that dust which t… While mortall love doth all the ti…

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul… Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me… From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questio…

I cannot ope mine eyes, But thou art ready there to catch My morning-soul and sacrifice: Then we must needs for that day ma… My God, what is a heart?

I joy, dear mother, when I view Thy perfect lineaments, and hue Both sweet and bright. Beauty in thee takes up her place, And dates her letters from thy fac…

Chorus: Let all the world in ev’… ‘My God and King.’ Verse: The heav’ns are not too h… His praise may thither fly: The earth is not too low,

Almightie Judge, how shall poore… Thy dreadfull look, Able a heart of iron to appall, When thou shalt call For ev’ry man’s peculiar book?

When first thou didst entice to th… I thought the service brave; So many joys I writ down for my p… Besides what I might have Out of my stock of natural delight…