from The Temple (1633), by George Herbert:

from [b]The Temple[/b] (1633), by[b] George Herbert[/b]:

[img]/new/e107_images/newspost_images/easterwings.jpg[/img]

[b] Easter wings.[/b]

Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poore:
With thee
Oh let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne:
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sinne,
That I became
Most thinne.
With thee
Let me combine
And feel this day thy victorie:
For, if I imp my wing on thine
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

 

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