Classic Poem

How shril are silent tears? when sin got head
And all my Bowels turn'd
To brasse, and iron; when my stock lay dead,
And all my powers mourn'd;
Then did these drops (for Marble sweats,
And Rocks have tears,)
As rain here at our windows beats,
Chide in thine Ears;

2.

No quiet couldst thou have: nor didst thou wink,
And let thy Begger lie,
But e'r my eies could overflow their brink
Didst to each drop reply;
Bowels of Love! at what low rate,
And slight a price
Dost thou relieve us at thy gate,
And stil our Cries?

3.

Wee are thy Infants, and suck thee; If thou
But hide, or turn thy face,
Because where thou art, yet, we cannot go,
We send tears to the place,
These find thee out, and though our sins
Drove thee away,
Yet with thy love that absence wins
Us double pay.

4.

O give me then a thankful heart! a heart
After thy own, not mine;
So after thine, that all, and ev'ry part
Of mine, may wait on thine;
O hear! yet not my tears alone,
Hear now a floud,
A floud that drowns both tears, and grones,
My Saviours bloud.