Not as a pleasant picture in a frame Do I a seeker kneel and worship thee Or by endless repetitions of thy name Call down the power that would set me free. In a cabin made of clay I took first breath And woke to wonder in the waking morn. Did I take birth only to meet my death When all the coloured strands of life were worn And all my dark desires turned to dust And nothing left lest soul from ashes soar Above and all my life to thee entrust That God in human hearts might faith restore.
Poems Undated (1727)
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