Slipped over my tongue;
My faith, my hope, and joy are dead.
Assist my heart,
Rather than my song,
My God, my Saviour! When I'm ill-bested.
Stand by,
And I
Shall bear with courage undeserved smart.

THE PHILOSOPHER'S DEVOTION.

Sing aloud!--His praise rehearse
Who hath made the universe.
He the boundless heavens has spread,
All the vital orbs has kned, _kneaded._
He that on Olympus high
Tends his flocks with watchful eye,
And this eye has multiplied _suns, as centres of systems._
Midst each flock for to reside.
Thus, as round about they stray,
Toucheth[137] each with outstretched ray;
Nimble they hold on their way,
Shaping out their night and day.
Summer, winter, autumn, spring,
Their inclined axes bring.
Never slack they; none respires,
Dancing round their central fires.

In due order as they move,
Echoes sweet be gently drove
Thorough heaven's vast hollowness,
Which unto all corners press:
Music that the heart of Jove
Moves to joy and sportful love;
Fills the listening sailers' ears
Riding on the wandering spheres:
Neither speech nor language is
Where their voice is not transmiss.

God is good, is wise, is strong,
Witness all the creature throng,
Is confessed by every tongue;
All things back from whence they sprung, _go back_--a verb.
As the thankful rivers pay
What they borrowed of the sea.

Now myself I do resign:
Take me whole: I all am thine.
Save me, God, from self-desire--
Death's pit, dark hell's raging fire--[138]
Envy, hatred, vengeance, ire;
Let not lust my soul bemire.

Quit from these, thy praise I'll sing,
Loudly sweep the trembling string.
Bear a part, O Wisdom's sons,
Freed from vain religions!
Lo! from far I you salute,
Sweetly warbling on my lute--
India, Egypt, Araby,
Asia, Greece, and Tartary,
Carmel-tracts, and Lebanon,
With the Mountains of the Moon,
From whence muddy Nile doth run,
Or wherever else you won: _dwell._
Breathing in one vital air,
One we are though distant far.

Rise at once;--let's sacrifice:
Odours sweet perfume the skies;
See how heavenly lightning fires
Hearts inflamed with high aspires!
All the substance of our souls
Up in clouds of incense rolls.
Leave we nothing to ourselves
Save a voice--what need we else!
Or an hand