Classic Poem

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Thou art the only, only, best
Whilst I'me from thee I take no rest

I feell a strangers aking heart
Whilst Christ, and my soull live apart.

What ever company, I'me in
My joys, they ar but poor, and thin.

What ever Lord, I am about
I long for to be called out.

Of this dark cell, of misery
Into a blest eternity.

Where no sin, shall my soull once reach
Her joys, and comforts to impeach.

In thy love, itt shall lye, and bleat
Feelling itts warm eternall heat.

Oh god thou art my all, in all
I will stand att the door, & call.

Crying to thee, oh come away
Hasten my much desired, day.

My weary state, doe thou condole
And break the fetters from my soull.

Dost time, and days, out of the way
That I may not long, from thee stay.

My soull longs, to be on the wing
To its beloved, it would spring.

Whilst I am here, I sink in mire
Ready, almost somtimes to tire.

Thou lifts me up, & casts me down
Between thy favour, & thy frown.

I am still tossed to, and fro
Somtimes hope, somtimes my foe.

Doth get of me, the uper hand
Soe that my faith, can hardly stand.

I never shall, be free from moane
Till I climb up, unto thy throne.

This world's a willdernese, att best
How can I here, take up my rest.

When shall thy weary, absent, bride
With her dear bridgroom still reside