Nicholas Billingsley

1633-1709 / England

Deo Ter Opt. Max.

Oh from thy Radient Throne above
Look down on me, Great God of love
With sacred Light my Soul infuse,
And wing, for flight, mine unfledg'd Muse,
That she may like the morning Lark
Mount up and sing Lord I'me a spark;
But if thy Bellows please to blow
Me up, Oh then I needs must glow.
My God to me a Being gave,
To use those little gifts I have;
Oh may I then to after days
Make known my All-Creators praise;
As by instinct the Loadstone draws
The iron, as the Amber straws;
So let thy grace mine heart attract,
Dear Lord! O make me have respect
To all thy righteous Laws, begin
To purge out all my dross my Tinn
Remove far from me; Oh inflame
My frozen Spirit, to praise thy Name.
Let Heaven fill me to the brim
Above the world, Oh may I swim.
And (as it were) my soul divorce
From Transient joys Oh steer my course
According to thy compass Guid
My reeling Pinace, make the Tide
Tranquil, and let the milder gale
Of thy sweet Spirit, stuff my Sail,
Until I safely am arriven
At the desired Haven, Heaven;
Where I shall see the God of nature,
And always praise the worlds Creator.
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