J. Beaumont What's this Morn's bright eye to me, If I see not Thine and Thee, Fairer JESU; in whose Face All my Heaven is spread! -- Alas, Still I grovel in dead Night, Whilst I want Thy living Light; Dreaming with wide open eyes Fond fantastic vanities. Shine, my only Day-Star, shine: So mine eyes shall wake by Thine; So the dreams I grope-in now To clear visions all shall grow; So my day shall measured be By Thy Grace's clarity [167] ; So shall I discern the Path Thy sweet Law prescribéd hath; For Thy ways cannot be shown By any light but by Thine own. Footnotes: [167] clarity, clear light |