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Meditation
by Anne Bradstreet
My soul, rejoice thou in thy God,
Boast of Him all the day,
Walk in His law, and kiss His rod
Cleave close to Him alway.
What though thy outward man decay,
Thy inward shall wax strong.
Thy body vile it shall be changed,
And glorious made erelong.
With angel's wings thy soul shall mount
To bliss unseen by eye,
And drink at unexhausted fount
Of joy unto eternity.
Thy tears shall all be dried up,
Thy sorrows all shall fly,
Thy sins shall ne'er be summoned up
Nor come in memory.
Then shall I know what Thou hast done
For me, unworthy me,
And praise Thee shall ev'n as I ought
For wonders that I see.
Base world, I trample on thy face,
Thy glory I despise,
No gain I find in ought below,
For God hath made me wise.
Come Jesus quickly, Blessed Lord.
Thy face when shall I see?
O let me count each hour a day
'Till I dissolved be.