Aspiration (excerpt)

Unto the spring of purest life

Aspires my withered heart,

My soul confined in this flesh

Employs both strength and art,

Working, struggling, suing still

From exile home to part.

…

Where all the saints themselves shall shine

As bright as brightest sun,

In fullest triumph crowned they

To mutual joys shall run,

And safely count their fights and foes

When once the war is done.

For being freed from all defect

They feel no fleshly war,

Or rather both the flesh and mind

At length united are,

For joying in so rich a peace

They can admit no jar.

Who know the Knower of all things,

What can they choose but know?

They all behold each other's hearts,

And all their secrets shew;

One act of will and not of will

From all their minds do flow

Though all their merits diverse be

According to their pains,

Yet love doth make that every one's

Which any other gains,

And all which doth belong to one

To all of them pertains.

O King of kings, give me such strength

In this great war depending,

That I may here prevail at length

And ever be ascending,

Till I at last arrive to Thee

The source of all felicity!