Classic Poem

longings to be in heaven.

When shall I leave, this world unkind
And trecherous, sinfull hart behind.

Me whilst I leap beyound the bound
Of time, thy praises, to resound.

I cannot come. to dwell in love
Till climbed up the hill a-bove.

Love is the ayr, I shall breath in
Love misterys, I then shall sing.

Thy love, I cannot comprehand
Till thou away, for me doe send.

Then it shall comprehend me still
And I shall have my blessed fill.

Whilst I those knots of love unty
New misterys, I shall espy.

I cannot but desire, with speed
that book of love to see and read.

That book which from eternity
Lay hiden, to each mortall eye.

But was made manefest in time
Unto the sons, of Adams line.

What emulation, doth me fill
When I by faith, climb Sion hill.

And see the spirits up above
Emplo'd in their sweet acts of love.

Whilst I in sin, and mire doe lye
And cannot up, unto thee fly.

My times ar in thy hand oh Lord
Yet fain, I would thy praise record.

Among the saincts glorified
And drench'd in love at fountain head.