Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure
George Herbert
Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise
I Got me flowers to straw Thy way,
Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Lord, how couldst thou so much appease
As he that sees a dark and shady grove,
Since, Lord, to thee
I made a posie, while the day ran by:
Full of rebellion, I would die,
Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,
Prayer the Churches banquet, Angels age,
Sorry I am, my God, sorry I am,
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee,
How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
The harbingers are come. See, see their mark;
Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true,