Classic Poem

The soull encouraging it self with the hopes of the speedy satisfaction of its desires in the full enjoyment of god.

What meanst thou poor. impris'ned soull
Thus day, by day, to cry, & moane
Thy god will surely, thee condole
And fecth thee hence, unto his throne.

The argument from whence, I doe
Draw forth this sweet conclusion
That I shall soon, attain unto
My longed for salvation.

It is not any thing I see
within my self to grow, or spring
But only from the love, and free
Boundlese compasions of my king.

Who cannot will not. long delight
To see me, pine, in misery
Because I cannot take my flight
Into a blest eternity.

Hee'l surely fill, and satisfie
The mouth that he hath opened
And made. to gape soe gredily
With heavens daintys to be fed.

Tis he, and only he alone
That knows the workings of my hart
Whilst after him, it still doth moane
And he it is, will take my part.

Hee will unto his own lay claim
Least I should be discouraged
Hee will bring glory, to his name
And fecth me, to, the fountain head.