Howe'er I rest, great God, let me These are my drowsy days; in vain SIR THOMAS BROWNE. "Night unto Right Teacheth Knowledge.” WHEN I survey the bright So rich with jewels hung, that Night My soul her wings doth spread, The Almighty's mysteries to read. For the bright firmament Shoots forth no flame So silent, but is eloquent In speaking the Creator's name. No unregarded star Into so small a character, Removed far from our human sight, But if we stedfast look, We shall discern In it, as in some holy book, How man may heavenly knowledge learn. It tells the conqueror, That far-stretched power, Which his proud dangers traffic for, That from the farthest north, Yet undiscovered, issue forth, And then they likewise shall For, as yourselves, your empires fall, Thus those celestial fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacy of our desires, And all the pride of life, confute ; For they have watched since first And found sin in itself accurst, And nothing permanent on earth. There was a king. THERE was a King of old That did in Jewry dwell; Whether a God, or man, or both, I'm sure I love him well. HABINGTON. Love Him! why, who doth not? Not goodness, beauty, sweetness, love— None ever did, or can; But here's the cause alone Why He of all few lovers finds, There are so many fair, He's lost among the throng, Yet they that seek Him nowhere else, May find Him in a song. This King, then, was a man, Whose mother was a maid; Himself was God, and if you doubt, A wonder sure it was, But so is all the rest: For whilst she bore Him in her womb, She wore Him on her breast. A King He was so high, Yet was His pomp not very great; Twelve was His usual train, And though no other prince Did give a better pay, Yet when He stood in greatest need His subjects ran away. This King He was a Priest, And though the sacrifice This God, Man, King, and Priest, He was most just, yet merciful; He never any failed That sought Him in their need: He was the truest Friend That ever any tried, For whom He loved He never left, For them He lived and died. And if you'd know the folk His life all wonder was, That He who was all life and love, L I'll love Him while I live; Though I them hate, I'll wish no worse ANON. Show Me more Love. SHOW me more love, my dearest Lord, In heaven, unloved of Thee, Then hear my cry and help afford; |