Poems by John Hall.

An Ode.

1

DEscend O Lord Into this gloomy heart of mine, And once afford A glimpse of that great Light of thine, The Sunne doth never here To shine on basest dunghills once forbeare.

2

What though I be Nothing but high corruption? Let me have thee And at thy presence 'twill be gon,

Darkenesse dare never stand In competition while the Suns at hand.

3

And though my sinnes Be an unnumbred number, yet When thou begins To looke on Christ, do then forget I help'd to cause his griefe. If so, Lord from it grant me some reliefe.

4

All thou demands Is that small peice of me, my heart; Lo here it stands Thine wholly, I'le reserve no part; Let the three corners be (Since nought else can) fil'd with one triple thee.

5

Set up a Throne, Admit no rivall of thy power, Be thou alone (I'le onely feare thee) Emperour, And though thy limits may Seeme small, Heaven onely is as large as they.

6

And if by chance The Old-oft-conquer'd Enemy New stirrs advance, Looke but upon him and hee'l fly, The smallest checke of thine Will do't, so cannot all the power that's mine.

7

Thy Kingdome is More then ten thousand worlds, each heart A Province is; Keepe residence in mine, 'tis part Of those huge Realmes; I'le be Thy slave, and by this meanes gaine libertie,

8

Such as all Earth Ne're could so much as fancy yet, Nor can give birth To thoughts enough to fathom it, No no, nor can blest I When I injoy it, know what I enjoy.

9

Then give me this I aske for, though I know not what (O Lord) it is: But what's of greatest price give that, Or plainely bold to be In begging, Lord, I pray thee give me thee.