Classic Poem

Oh thou great Power, in whom I move,
For whom I live, to whom I die,
Behold me through thy beams of love,
Whilest on this Couch of tears I lye;
And Cleanse my sordid soul within,
By thy Christs Bloud, the bath of sin.

No hallowed oyls, no grains I need,
No rags of Saints, no purging fire,
One rosie drop from Davids Seed
Was worlds of seas, to quench thine Ire.
O pretious Ransome! which once paid,
That Consummatum Est was said:

And said by him, that said no more,
But seal'd it with his sacred breath.
Thou then, that hast dispung'd my score,
And dying, wast the death of death;
Be to me now, on thee I call,
My Life, my Strength, my Joy, my All.