Classic Poem

O Whither is my Love withdrawn! and where
Shall I direct my Steps to find him near,
And fear no prying Eyes, nor list'ning Ear?

Ah! Whither shall I now repair to find
A Solitary Place to ease my Mind,
To him that can my Foes in Fetters bind?

Ah, Lord! with-hold not those Resplendent-Beams ,
Nor stop the Current of those Christal Streams ,
Which would both heal my Wounds , and cleanse my ( Stains .

Spring! Spring! O Fountain of Felicity!
And let sweet Shiloh 's Stream flow forth, that I
May drink, and be refresh'd; or else I die.

Appear, thou great High Priest of Israel!
Who in that vast Eternity doth dwell,
Whose perfect Beauty, Tongue can never tell.

O can my Soul but much affected be
With those Enam'ring Rays that dart from thee,
Great Spring of Light! O teach me fervently

To wait for thee! whose Love is still inclin'd
To favour Isr'els Seed, whose Heart and Mind
Is unto thee unfeignedly resign'd.

Tho' Mortals cannot see thy Face, and Live;
Yet to thy Royal Seed thou'rt pleas'd to give
This Princely Favour, this Prerogative.

Lord, cast thine Eye upon a Worm, whose State
Is even like a Widow desolate!
Remove, consume, all that would separate,

Or interpose betwixt my Love and me:
O rend the Vail throughout, that I may see
My Soul's chief Darling! Ah, Thou, Thou art He,

That stands behind the Wall, and there dost wait
To shew thy self, when thine do supplicate
To see thee near; then dost thou satiate

The Pure in Heart: Altho' thou please to try
Their Zeal, their Fervour, their Sincerity
To thee; whose Presence, Lord, is always nigh.