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Poem by George Herbert
My heart did heave, and there came forth, O God! By that I knew that thou wast in the grief, To guide and govern it to my relief, Making a scepter of the rod: Hadst thou not had Thy part, Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart. 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 dayly, praise thee to thy losse.
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