Classic Poem

I gaze across the distant hills,
Thy coming to espy;
Beloved, haste, the day grows late,
The sun sinks down the sky.

All the old loves I followed once
Are now unfaithful found;
But a sweet sickness holds me yet
Of love that has no bound!

Love that the sensual heart ne'er knows,
Such power, such grace it brings,
Which sucks desire and thought away
From all created things.

O make me faithful while I live,
Attuned but to thy praise,
And may no pleasure born of earth
Entice to devious ways.

All my affections now withdraw
From objects false, impure,
To the one object which unchanged
Shall to the last endure.

There is no station under heaven
Where I have lust to live;
Only the mansions of God's house
Can perfect pleasure give.

Regard is dead and lust is dead
For the world's gilded toys;
Her ways are nought but barrenness,
And vain are all her joys.