PRAYER OF THE PSALMIST.

Then will I set forth to sight
With what pleasure, what delight,
I embrace Thy precepts right,
Whereunto all love I plight.

Then will I, with either hand,
Clasp the rules of Thy command;

There my study still shall stand,

Striving them to understand.

Countess of Pembroke.

IF our God we had forsaken,
Or forgot what He assign'd,

If ourselves we had betaken

Gods to serve of other kind,
Should not He our doubling find,
Though conceal'd and closely lurking?
Since His eye of deepest mind,
Deeper sinks than deepest working.

Same.

I SOUGHT Thee round about, O Thou my God, In Thine Abode;

I said unto the earth, "Speak, art thou He?" She answered me,

SEARCH AFTER GOD.

"I am not." I enquired of creatures all,

In general,

Contain'd therein; they with one voice proclaini,
That none amongst them challeng'd such a name.

I asked the seas, and all the deeps below,
My God to know.

I asked the reptiles, and whatever is
In the abyss;

Even from the shrimp to the Leviathan,

Enquiry ran:

But in those deserts which no line can sound,
The God I sought for was not to be found.

I asked the air, if that were He; but, lo!
It told me, "No!"

I, from the towering eagle to the wren,
Demanded then,

If any feather'd fowl 'mongst them were such;
But they all, much

Offended with my question, in full quire,

Answered, "To find thy God thou must look higher."

I asked the Heavens, sun, moon, and stars, but they

Said, "We obey

The God thou seek'st."

Could see or hear;

I asked what eye or ear

What in the world I might desery or know,

Above, below;

With a unanimous voice all these things said,
"We are not God; but we by Him were made."

I asked the world's great universal mass

If that God was?

Which, with a mighty and strong voice, replied,

As stupefied,

SEARCH AFTER GOD.

"I am not He, O man! for know that I,

By Him on high,

Was fashion'd first of nothing, thus instated,
And swayed by Him, by whom I was created."

I sought the Court; but smooth-tongued flattery there
Deceived each ear;

In the thronged city there was selling, buying,
Swearing, and lying;

I' the country, craft in simpleness array'd:
And then I said,

"Vain is my search, although my pains be greatWhere my God is, there can be no deceit."

A scrutiny within myself I, then,

Even thus began ;

"O Man, what art thou?" What more could I say, Than dust and clay.

Frail, mortal, fading, a mere puff, a blast,

That cannot last;

Enthroned to-day, to morrow in an urn;

Formed from that earth to which I must return.

I asked myself what this great God might be
That fashion'd me?

I answered the all-potent, solely immense,
Surpassing sense;

Unspeakable, inscrutable, eternal,

Lord over all:

The only terrible, strong, just, and true,
Who hath no end, and no beginning knew.

He is the well of life, for He doth give,
To all that live,

Both breath and being: He is the Creator
Both of the water,

SEARCH AFTER GOD.

Earth, air, and fire. Of all things that subsist,
He hath the list;

Of all the heavenly host, or what earth claims,
He keeps the scroll, and calls them by their names.

And now, my God, by Thine illumining grace,
Thy glorious face,

(So far forth as it may discover'd be,)
Methinks I see;

And though invisible and infinite,—

To human sight,

Thou, in Thy mercy, justice, truth, appearest ;
In which to our weak sense Thou comest nearest.

O make us apt to seek, and quick to find,
Thou God, most kind!

Give us love, hope, and faith, in Thee to trust,
Thou God, most just!

Remit all our offences, we entreat,

Most Good, most Great!

Grant that our willing, though unworthy quest

May, through Thy grace, admit us 'mongst the blest.

Thomas Heywood.

PORTRAIT OF PHILIP SIDNEY.

You knew-who knew not, Astrophel?
(That I should live to say I knew,
And have not in possession still!)
Things known permit me to renew
Of him, you know his merit such,
I cannot say you hear-too much.