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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>This Hymn Was Made By Sir H. Wotton, When He Was An Ambassador At Venice, In The Time of A Great Sickness There</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Eternal Mover, whose diffused Glory,<br>To shew our groveling Reason what thou art,<br>Unfolds it self in Clouds of Natures story,<br>Where Man, thy proudest Creature, acts his part:<br>Whom yet (alas) I know not why, we call<br>The Worlds contracted sum, the little all. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For, what are we but lumps of walking clay?<br>Why should we swel? whence should our spirits rise<br>Are not bruit Beasts as strong, and Birds as gay,<br>Trees longer liv'd, and creeping things as wise?<br>Only our souls was left an inward light,<br>To feel our weakness, and confess thy might.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou then, our strength, Father of life and death,<br>To whom our thanks, our vows, our selves we owe,<br>From me thy tenant of this fading breath,<br>Accept those lines which from thy goodness flow:<br>And thou that wert thy Regal Prophets Muse,<br>Do not thy Praise in weaker strains refuse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let these poor Notes ascend unto thy throne,<br>Where Majesty doth sit with Mercy crown'd,<br>Where my Redeemer lives, in whom alone<br>The errours of my wandring life are drown'd:<br>Where all the Quire of heaven resound the same,<br>That only Thine, Thine is the saving Name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well then, my Soul, joy in the midst of Pain;<br>Thy Christ that conquer'd hell, shall from above<br>With greater triumph yet return again,<br>And conquer his own Justice with his Love;<br>Commanding Earth and Seas to render those<br>Unto his Bliss, for whom he paid his Woes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now have I done: now are my thoughts at peace,<br>And now my Joyes are stronger then my grief:<br>I feel those Comforts that shall never cease,<br>Future in Hope, but present in Belief.<br>Thy words are true, thy promises are just,<br>And thou wilt find thy dearly bought in Dust.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wotton">Henry Wotton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519317" data-title="This Hymn Was Made By Sir H. Wotton, When He Was An Ambassador At Venice, In The Time of A Great Sickness There" data-description="Eternal Mover, whose diffused Glory,
To shew our groveling Reason what thou art,
Unfolds it self in Clouds of Natures story,
Where Man, thy proudest Creature, acts his part:
Whom yet (alas) I know not why, we call
The Worlds contracted sum, the li..."></div>
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