Poesy

Matins, or Morning Prayer

When with the virgin morning thou dost rise,Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice;First wash thy heart in innocence; then bringPure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing.Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thenceGive up thy soul in clouds of frankincense.Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweetShall make thy actions with their ends to meet.

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