Classic Poem

The soull desiring still to have that presented to its eye. as may, make it swiftly towards heaven.

An ernest peny give me still
of the inheritance
That I with joy, may climb that hill
and speedily advance.

Let me by faith, discern the goal
for an encouragement
Unto my tired, weary, soull
in its craky, ascent.

Hold forth, to me, the glor'ous crown
that I may restlese be
And never stand still, or sit down
untill thou give it me.

But above all, still let me veiw
The beauty, of my king
That I this world, may bid adeiw
still mounting on loves wing.

Let me not live, once to decline
in the actings of grace
But let me, by, thy rays devine
grow up to thee apace.

Present perfection to my eye
that I may swiftly move
Till Joyn'd with the society
of spirits, up above.

The glory of heaven unveil
that I such sights may see
As I with speed, may swiftly sayl
through this rough sea, to thee.