This poem is from his anthology 'The Temple,' published in 1633
Of what an easy quick access,
My blessed Lord, art thou! how suddenly
May our requests thine ear invade!
To shew that state dislikes not easiness,
If I but lift mine eyes, my suit is made:
Thou canst no more not hear, then thou canst die.
Of what supreme almighty power
Is thy great arm, which spans the east and west,
And tacks the centre to the sphere!
By it do all things live their measur'd hour:
We cannot ask the thing, which is not there,
Blaming the shallowness of our request.
Of what unmeasured love
Art thou possessed, who, when thou couldst not die,
Were fain to take our flesh and curse,
And for our sakes in person sin reprove,
That by destroying that which ty'd thy purse,
Thou mightst make way for liberty!
Since then these three wait on thy throne,
Ease, Power, and Love; I value prayer so,
That were I to leave all but one,
Wealth, fame, endowments, virtues, all should go;
I and dear prayer would together dwell,
And quickly gain, for each inch lost, an ell.
Notes
fain = willing, glad
ell = an old measurement equal to 45 inches
Comments