1 Ye hidden nectars, which my God doth drink, Ye heavenly streams, ye beams divine, On which the angels think, How quick, how strongly do ye shine! Ye images of joy that in me dwell, Ye sweet mysterious shades That do all substances excel, Whose glory never fades; Ye skies, ye seas, ye stars, or things more fair, O ever, ever unto me repair. 2 Ye pleasant thoughts! O how that sun divine Appears today which I did see So sweetly then to shine, Even in my very infancy! Ye rich ideas which within me live, Ye living pictures here, Ye spirits that do bring and give All joys; when ye appear, Even Heaven itself, and God, and all in you, Come down on earth, and please my blessed view. 3 I never glorious, great, and rich am found, Am never ravished with joy, Till ye my soul surround, Till ye my blessedness display. No soul but stone, no man but clay am I, No flesh, but dust; till ye Delight, invade to move my eye, And do replenish me. My sweet informers and my living treasures, My great companions, and my only pleasures! 4 O what incredible delights, what fires, What appetites, what joys do ye Occasion, what desires, What heavenly praises! While we see What every seraphim above admires! Your jubilee and trade, Ye are so strangely and divinely made, Shall never, never fade. Ye ravish all my soul, of you I twice Will speak. For in the dark y'are Paradise. |