Page:The Temple (2nd ed) - George Herbert (1633).djvu/79

But since thy breath gave me both life and shape,
Thou knowst my tallies; and when there's assign'd
So much breath to a sigh, what's then behinde?
Or if some yeares with it escape,
The sigh then onely is
A gale to bring me sooner to my blisse.

Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art still
Constant unto it, making it to be
A point of honour, now to grieve in me,
And in thy members suffer ill.
They who lament one crosse,
Thou dying daily, praise thee to thy losse.

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¶ The Starre.

BRight spark, shot from a brighter place,
Where beams surround my Saviours face,
Canst thou be any where
So well as there?

Yet, if thou wilt from thence depart,
 Take a bad lodging in my heart;
For thou canst make a debter,
And make it better.

First with thy fire-work burn to dust
 Folly, and worse then folly, lust:
Then with thy light refine,
And make it shine.

So disengag'd from sinne and sicknesse,
 Touch it with thy celestiall quicknesse,
That it may hang and move
After thy love.

Then