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Anne Bradstreet - Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting
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Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise, 
But ah! It`s not in me. 
My sinking heart I pray Thee raise 
So shall I give it Thee.

My life as spider`s webb`s cut off, 
Thus fainting have I said, 
And living man no more shall see 
But be in silence laid.

My feeble spirit Thou didst revive, 
My doubting Thou didst chide, 
And though as dead mad`st me alive, 
I here a while might `bide.

Why should I live but to Thy praise? 
My life is hid with Thee. 
O Lord, no longer be my days 
Than I may fruitful be.
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