TO HEAVEN

Just right and first-rate God, can i now not feel of thee
nevertheless it have got to straight my despair be?
Is it interpreted in my ailment
That, laden with my sins, I search for ease?
Oh be thou witness, that the reins dost know
And hearts of all, if I be sad for show,
And choose me after; if I dare pretend
To ought but grace or aim at different end.
As thou art all, so be thou all to me,
First, midst, and final, changed one, and three;
My faith, my hope, my love; and on this state
My decide, my witness, and my recommend.
The place have I been this whilst exil'd from thee?
And whither rap'd, now thou however slump'st to me?
Dwell, dwell right here still. O, being all over the place,
How am i able to doubt to search out thee ever right here?
I do know my state, each stuffed with shame and scorn,
Conceiv'd in sin, and unto labour borne,
Standing with fear, and have got to with horror fall,
And destin'd unto judgment, in any case.
I suppose my griefs too, and there scarce is floor
Upon my flesh t' inflict an extra wound.
But dare I no longer complain, or desire for loss of life
With holy Paul, lest it be inspiration the breath
Of discontent; or that these prayers be
For weariness of existence, no longer love of thee.