Classic Poem

The souls, longings to be gone. with the reasons of itt.

Oh when shall I
to heaven fly
And mount above, the starry sky

I'de run apace
to see that face
Soe full of beauty, and of grace

I'me sick of love
For a remove
Unto thy self, who dwelst above

Oh come away
make no delay
Hasten my much, desired day

Sin haunteth mee
I cant be free
When shall I, from this tirant flee

This enemy
I cannot fly
Untill thou doe, lifes knot. unty

I moane, and pine
For fear the time
Should yet be long, e're I doe climb

Up unto thee
That I may see
Thy face, and be from sin, set free

I'me sore opprest
and find no rest
To be with thee, I know tis best

Give me my fill
On Sion hill
Thy long delays, doe even kill

Thy worthlesse bride
would fain abide
Where her deer bridgroom, doth reside

Temptation.
doth on me throng
Which makes me think, thine absence long

Coruption, doth
whilst here bud forth
And grace, is att, imperfect growth

Sin, that doth clip
my wing, and nip
My joys, att best, ar but a sip

Desertions be
frequent, with me
An unveil'd face, I'de always see

For'a perfect state
I long, and waitt.
As pris'ners that look through the grate