LORD, when the sense of thy sweet grace Sends up my soul to seek thy face. Thy blessed eyes breed such desire, I dy in love's delicious Fire. O love, I am thy SACRIFICE. Be still triumphant, blessed eyes. Still shine on me, fair suns! that I Still may behold, though still I dy. Second part. Though still I dy, I live again; Still longing so to be still slain, So gainfull is such losse of breath, I dy even in desire of death. Still live in me this loving strife Of living DEATH and dying LIFE. For while thou sweetly slayest me Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee. |