The Heaven - Ben Jonson

             

The Heaven - Ben Jonson

                     The Heaven - Ben Jonson

 Good and great God, 
can I not think of thee

But it must straight my melancholy be?
Is it interpreted in me

That, laden with my sins, 
I seek for ease?
Oh be thou witness, 
that the reins dost know
And hearts of all,
 if I be sad for show,

And judge me after; 
if I dare pretend
To ought but grace or aim at other end.

As thou art all, 
so be thou all to me,
First, midst, and last,
 converted one, and three;
My faith, my hope, my love; 
and in this state
My judge, my witness, and my advocate.

Where have I been
 this while exil'd from thee?
And whither rap'd, 
now thou but stoop'st to me?
Dwell, dwell here still. 

O, being everywhere,
How can I doubt to find thee ever here?

I know my state,
 both full of shame and scorn,
Conceiv'd in sin, and unto labour borne,
Standing with fear, 
and must with horror fall,
And destin'd unto judgment, after all.

I feel my griefs too,
 and there scarce is ground
Upon my flesh t' inflict another wound.

Yet dare I not complain,
 or wish for death
With holy Paul, lest it be thought the breath
Of discontent; or that these prayers be
For weariness of life, not love of thee.



                  ~ The Heaven - Ben Jonson