The SIGH. From the same

My Heart did heave, and there came forth "O GOD!" By that I knew that Thou wast in the Grief, (Making a Golden Sceptre of thy Rod) To guide and govern it to my Relief. Hadst Thou not had a more than equal Part, Sure the unruly Sigh had broke my Heart.

But since thy Will my Bounds of Life assign'd, Thou know'st my Frame: and if a single Sigh Ask so much Breath, what then remains behind? Why! if some Years of Life together fly, The swiftly-wafting Sigh then only is A Gale to bring me sooner to my Bliss!

Thy Life on Earth was Grief: to this Thou still Art constant, while thy suff'ring Majesty Touch'd with my Mis'ry, feels whate'er I feel, Adopts my Woes, and daily grieves in me. Thy Death was but begun on Calvary; Thou ev'ry Hour dost in thy Members die!