The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/Decay
For works with similar titles, see Decay.
¶ Decay.
SWeet were the dayes, when thou didst lodge with Lot,Struggle with Jacob, sit with Gideon,Advise with Abraham, when thy power could notEncounter Moses strong complaints and mone:Thy words were then, Let me alone.
One might have sought and found thee presentlyAt some fair oak, or bush, or cave, or well:Is my God this way? No, they would reply:He is to Sinai gone, as we heard tell:List, ye may heare great Aarons bell.
But now thou dost thy self immure and closeIn some one corner of a feeble heart:Where yet both Sinne and Satan, thy old foes,Do pinch and straiten thee, and use much artTo gain thy thirds and little part.
I see the world grows old, when as the heatOf thy great love once spread, as in an urnDoth closet up it self, and still retreat,Cold sinne still forcing it, till it return,And calling Justice, all things burn.