OH thou great Power, in whom I move, <br />For whom I live, to whom I die, <br />Behold me through thy beams of love, <br />Whilest on this Couch of tears I lye; <br />And Cleanse my sordid soul within, <br />By thy Chirsts Bloud, the bath of sin. <br /> <br />No hallowed oyls, no grains I need, <br />No rags of Saints, no purging fire, <br />One rosie drop from David's Seed <br />Was worlds of seas, to quench thine Ire. <br />O pretious Ransome! which once paid, <br />That Consummatum est was said. <br /> <br />And said by him, that said no more, <br />But seal'd it with his sacred breath. <br />Thou then, that hast dispung'd my score, <br />And dying, wast the death of death; <br />Be to me now, on thee I call, <br />My Life, my Strength, my Joy, my All.<br /><br />Sir Henry Wotton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-hymn-to-my-god/
