Blessed Light of saints on high <br />Who fill the mansions of the sky, <br />Sure defence, whose mercy still <br />Preserves thy subjects here from ill, <br />O my Jesus! make me know <br />How to pay the thanks I owe. <br /> <br />As the fond sheep that id'ly strays <br />With wanton play thro' winding ways, <br />Which never hits the road of home, <br />O'er Wilds of danger learns to roam, <br />'Till weari'd out with idle fear <br />And passing there and turning here, <br />He will for rest to covert run <br />And meet the wolf he wish'd to shun; <br />Thus wretched I, thro' wanton will <br />Run blind and headlong on in ill: <br />'Twas thus from sin to sin I flew <br />And thus I might have perish'd too; <br />But mercy dropt the likeness here <br />And shew'd and sav'd me from my fear; <br />While o'er the darkness of my mind <br />The sacred spirit purely shin'd, <br />And mark'd and bright'ned all the way <br />Which leads to everlasting day, <br />And broke the thick'ning clouds of sin <br />And fix'd the light of love within. <br /> <br />From hence my ravish'd soul aspires <br />And dates the rise of its desires. <br />From hence to thee my God! I turn, <br />And fervent wishes say I burn, <br />I burn thy glorious face to see <br />And live in endless joy with thee. <br /> <br />There's no such ardent kind of flame <br />Between the lover and the dame, <br />Nor such affection parents bear <br />To their young and only heir, <br />Tho' join'd together both conspire <br />And boast a doubled force of fire. <br />My tender heart within its seat <br />Dissolves before the scorching heat, <br />As soft'ning wax is taught to run <br />Before the warmness of the sun. <br /> <br />O my flame my pleasing pain <br />Burn and purify my stain, <br />Warm me, burn me, day by day <br />'Till you purge my earth away, <br />'Till at the last I throughly shine <br />And turn a torch of love divine.<br /><br />Thomas Parnell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-convert-s-love/
