The Treasury Of Sacred Song

'Twas so; I saw thy birth: -- That drowsy lake

From her faint bosom breathed thee, the disease [136]

Of her sick waters, and infectious ease.

But, now at even,

Too gross for heaven,

Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.

Ah! it is so with me: oft have I prest

Heaven with a lazy breath; but fruitless this

Pierced not; Love only can with quick access

Unlock the way;

When all else stray,

The smoke and exhalations of the breast.

Yet, if as thou dost melt, and with thy train

Of drops make soft the Earth, my eyes could weep

O'er my hard heart, that's bound-up and asleep;

Perhaps at last,

-- Some such showers past --

My GOD would give a Sun-shine after rain.