O let me rise!

LORD, who createdst man in wealth and store,

Though foolishly he lost the same,

Decaying more and more,

Till he became Most poore:

With thee O let me rise As larks, harmoniously,

And sing this day thy victories:

Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne:

And still with sicknesses and shame Thou didst so punish sinne,

That I became Most thinne.

With thee Let me combine,

And feel this day thy victorie:

For, if I imp my wing on thine,

Affliction shall advance the flight in me.



--George Herbert (1593-1633)