To Heaven

1Good and great God, can I not think of thee

2But it must straight my melancholy be?

3Is it interpreted in me disease

4That, laden with my sins, I seek for ease?

5Oh be thou witness, that the reins dost know

6And hearts of all, if I be sad for show,

7And judge me after; if I dare pretend

8To ought but grace or aim at other end.

9As thou art all, so be thou all to me,

10First, midst, and last, converted one, and three;

11My faith, my hope, my love; and in this state

12My judge, my witness, and my advocate.

13Where have I been this while exil'd from thee?

14And whither rap'd, now thou but stoop'st to me?

15Dwell, dwell here still. O, being everywhere,

16How can I doubt to find thee ever here?

17I know my state, both full of shame and scorn,

18Conceiv'd in sin, and unto labour borne,

19Standing with fear, and must with horror fall,

20And destin'd unto judgment, after all.

21I feel my griefs too, and there scarce is ground

22Upon my flesh t' inflict another wound.

23Yet dare I not complain, or wish for death

24With holy Paul, lest it be thought the breath

25Of discontent; or that these prayers be

26For weariness of life, not love of thee.