JOHN WILMOT, EARL OF ROCHESTER
My light thou art without thy glorious sight
My eyes arc darken'd with eternal night.
My Love, thou art my way, my life, my light.
Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly. Thou ait my light, if hid, how blind am I' Thou art my life, if thou withdrawal, I die.
My eyes are dark and blind, I cannot see*
To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
But to that light ? and who 's that light but thee ?
If I have lost my path, dear lover, say, Shall I still wander in a doubtful way ? Love, shall a lamb of Israel's sheepfold stray ?
My path is lost, my wandering steps do stray;
I cannot go, nor can I safely stay;
Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?
And yet thou turn'st thy face away and fly'st me' And yet I sue for. grace and thou deny'st me'
Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye, The dead man's life. On thce my hopes rely. If 1 but them remove, I surely die.
Dissolve thy sunbeams, close thy wings and stay' See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray' O thou that art my life, my light, my way!
Then work thy will ' If passion bid me flee, My reason shall obey, my wings shall be Stretch'd out no farther than from me to thee'
�� �
