spirituall sloth the souls ruine

What cause have we, for to bewaill
Thesse slothfull harts, which we do traile
About with us, whilst we ar here
Were it not for our listlesnese
wee might enjoy, a fivefold mese
Of heavens sweet, and blessed chear

And come, to have a tast, and sight
Of that angellicall, delight
And thosse seraphik joys above
which we shall have, when get we shall
To'th vision beautificall
When we out of this world remove

How might the soull most sweetly spring
In meditation, to its king
And on his glorious beauty gaze
But that our harts, ar dull, and slow
And apt to fix, on thing below
Because they ar sick, of the laze

In cecreet pray'r how might wee see
Heaven as t'were, open to bee
Could we our harts, from sloth once court
We might in it tast such delights
And have of god, such clear forsights
As would with joy, our harts transport

Oh what mights thou atain unto
My soull, if thou couldst but break through
This let of spirittuall sloth
To what degrees, shalt thou atain
Of grace, and spiritual gain
If thou wilt but, thy self put forth

How canst thou bear it thus to creep
And slowly climb, the hill so steep
Whilst others of thee, get the start
And take posesion, of their crown
And in their kingdome ar set down
Whilst thou lookst on, with akeing hart.

Cold wishes, will not bring thee thither
Ther must be joyned, strong endevour
Gird up thy loyns, therfore, & run
If thou with speed, the crown wouldst gain
No slothfullnese, thou must retain
Untill thy work, and day, be done

Do thou deer Lord, my sloth remove
By the atractive pow'r of love
Give my dull hart, to thee a lift
Let love constraine, to run apace
To the fruition of thy face
And then my motion, will be swift