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I will love Thee:
And that love may never cease,
I will move Thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
Thou hast heard me:
Thou didst note my working breast,
Thou hast spar’d me.
Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing Thee,
And the cream of all my heart
I will bring Thee.
Though my sinnes against me cried,
Thou didst cleare me;
And alone, when they replied,
Thou didst heare me.
Sev’n whole dayes, not one in seven,
I will praise Thee.
In my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise Thee.
Thou grew’st soft and moist with tears,
And when Justice call’d for fears,
Small it is, in this poore sort
To enroll Thee:
Ev’n eternitie is too short
To extoll thee. —George Herbert (**spelling is 1663 English**)
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