Sir Henry Wotton Poems

How happy is he born or taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill;
...

You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes
More by your number than your light;
You common people of the skies,
...

OH thou great Power, in whom I move,
For whom I live, to whom I die,
Behold me through thy beams of love,
...

Soul.
Whilst my Souls eye beheld no light
But what stream'd from thy gracious sight
To me the worlds greatest King,
...

Who would have thought, there could have bin
Such joy in tears, wept for our sin?
Mine eyes have seen, my heart hath prov'd
...

You that on Stars do look,
Arrest not there your sight,
Though Natures fairest Book,
And signed with propitious light;
...

And now all Nature seem'd in love,
The lusty sap began to move;
New juice did stir th'embracing Vines,
And Birds had drawn their Valentines:
...

Silence (in truth) would speak my sorrow best,
For, deepest wounds can least their feelings tell;
Yet, let me borrow from mine own unrest,
...

Eternal Mover, whose diffused Glory,
To shew our groveling Reason what thou art,
Unfolds it self in Clouds of Natures story,
...