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George Herbert - Praise (II)
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King of glorie, King of peace,
                    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,
                    Thou dissentedst.
Small it is, in this poore sort
                    To enroll thee:
Ev`n eternitie is too short
                    To extoll thee.
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