Thy testimonies also are my delight and my counselors. My soul cleaveth unto the dust: quicken thou me according to thy word. (Psalm 119:24-25)
How do I spin my time away
In caring how to get
Ungodly wealth, and fret
My self to sweat,
As if thou Lord hadst meant this clay
No after life, no reckoning day.
What graceless fool would love his Earth
So, as with all his might
To pamper with delight
The same ‘gainst right,
Forgetting his divine soul’s birth
Was nobler, and of greater worth?
Thou Lord didst frame this soul of mine
Only to honor thee,
Not basely fond to be
Unflesh it then, and so refine
It Lord it may be all divine.
Quicken my dull-drooping spirit
That it may praise thy name,
Cleanse it from sin and blame,
Take from it shame.
Grant that by my Savior’s merit
Eternity it may inherit.
Let it not groveling lie pressed down
With earth, but mount, and gain
An everlasting reign,
Let it retain
No dross, and when it shall have thrown
Its cover off, grant it a crown.