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- XXI T. Campion
XXI T. Campion
Lo, when back mine eye,
Pilgrim-like I cast,
What fearful ways I spy,
Which, blinded, I securely past!
But now heaven hath drawn
From my brows that night;
As when the day doth dawn,
So clears my long-imprison'd sight.
Straight the Caves of Hell
Dress'd with flowers I see,
Wherein False Pleasures dwell,
That, winning most, most deadly be.
Throngs of maskéd fiends,
Wing'd like angels, fly;
E'en in the gates of friends,
In fair disguise black dangers lie.
Straight to heaven I raised
My restoréd sight,
And with loud voice I praised
The LORD of ever-during light.
And since I had stray'd
From His ways so wide,
His grace I humbly pray'd
Henceforth to be my guard and guide.