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| OH 1 heauenly Spirit of especiall power, | |
| That in thy hand thy praise of praises holdest; | |
| And from the top of truthe’s triumphant tower | |
| The hidden fence of fairest thoughts vnfoldest: | |
| Inspire this hart and humble soule of mine | 5 |
| With some sweet sparkle of thy power deuine. | |
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| Teach me to thinck but on that onely thought, | |
| Wherein doth liue the grace of vertue’s glory; | |
| And learne no more then what thy truth hath taught | |
| To those best wits that write thy worthie storie; | 10 |
| Wherein is seene in heauen and earth’s preseruing | |
| The highest point of praises, praise deseruing. | |
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| Let not compare come neere vnto none such: | |
| Heauen bee my thought, and let the world go by; | |
| And say with all that, say I nere so much, | 15 |
| All are but trifles to thy treasurie: | |
| For all no more then what thy mercie giueth, | |
| Who can behold wherein thy glory liueth? | |
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| No; I can see the shining of the sunne, | |
| But cannot sound the essence of the light: | 20 |
| Then of thy face, in whom that faire begunne, | |
| How can my soule presume to haue a sight? | |
| No, my deere God, thy glory hath a beeing, | |
| Where eie, nor heart, nor soule, may haue a seeing. | |
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| And therefore, Lord, since such thy glory is | 25 |
| As cannot bee but of thyselfe conceiued; | |
| And heauen nor earth conteines that sparke of blisse | |
| But from thy hand of mercy is receiued; | |
| What spirit can hir sweetest passion raise | |
| Neere to the due of thy deserued praise? | 30 |
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| Yet since all glory doth belong to thee, | |
| Thy name in all things must bee magnified; | |
| And by thy mercie thou hast made mee see | |
| How in my soule thou maist be glorified: | |
| In that sweet mercy make my soule to know, | 35 |
| How best I may that blessed glory show. * * * * * | |
