per∙e∙grī∙nus

Like the poem, not so sure about the typography. Get’s kinda redundant. But I don’t think it subtracts from the words.

By John Donne (1572-1631)

Why are we by all creatures waited on?
Why do the prodigal elements supply
Life and food to me, being more pure than I,
Simple, and further from corruption?
Why brook’st thou, ignorant horse, subjection?
Why dost thou, bull, and bore so seelily,
Dissemble weakness, and by one man’s stroke die,
Whose whole kind you might swallow and feed upon?
Weaker I am, woe is me, and worse than you,
You have not sinned, nor need be timorous.
But wonder at a greater wonder, for to us
Created nature doth these things subdue,
But their Creator, whom sin nor nature tied,
For us, His creatures, and His foes, hath died.

So I have sung “the doxology” all my life, but I never realized that it was part of a broader poem(s) written by a 17th century anglican, Thomas Ken. I love the poem below, “Morning Hymn”, and the accompanying evening hymn. I’d love to put these to my own tune and sing them to my kids. =) The original tunes are a bit…hymny.

Morning Hymn
Thomas Ken (1637-1711)

Awake, my Soul, and with the Sun
Thy daily stage of Duty run,
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise,
To pay thy Morning sacrifice.

Thy precious Time misspent, redeem,
Each present Day thy last esteem,
Improve thy Talent with due care,
For the Great Day thyself prepare.

‘Wake, and lift up thyself, my Heart,
And with the Angels bear thy part,
Who all night long unwearied sing,
High Praise to the Eternal King.

May I like you in God delight,
Have all day long my God in sight,
Perform like you my Maker’s Will,
O may I never more do ill.

Had I your Wings, to Heaven I’d fly,
But God shall that defect supply,
And my Soul wing’d with warm desire,
Shall all day long to Heav’n aspire.

* * *

I would not wake, nor rise again
Ev’n Heaven itself I would disdain,
Wert not Thou there to be enjoy’d,
And I in Hymns to be employ’d.

* * *

Lord, I my vows to Thee renew,
Disperse my sins as Morning dew.
Guard my first springs of Thought and Will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say,
That all my Powers, with all their might,
In Thy sole Glory may unite.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

The Father
by Josuah Sylvester (1563–1618)

Alpha and Omega, God alone :
Eloi, My God, the Holy-One;
Whose Power is Omnipotence:
Whose Wisedome is Omni-science:
Whose Beeing is All Soveraigne Blisse:
Whose Worke Perfection’s Fulnesse is;
Under All things, not under-cast;
Over All things, not over-plac’t;

Within All things, not there included;
Without All things, not thence excluded:
Above All, over All things raigning;
Beneath All, All things aye sustayning:
Without All, All conteyning sole:
Within All, filling-full the Whole:
Within All, no where comprehended;
Without All, no where more extended;
Under, by nothing over-topped:
Over, by nothing under-propped:

Unmov’d, Thou mov’st the World about;
Unplac’t, Within it, or Without:
Unchanged, time-lesse, Time Thou changest:
Th’ unstable, Thou, still stable, rangest;
No outward Force, nor inward Fate,
Can Thy dread Essence alterate:

To-day, To-morrow, yester-day,
With Thee are One, and instant aye;
Aye undivided, ended never:
To-day, with Thee, indures for-ever.

Thou, Father, mad’st this mighty Ball;
Of nothing thou created’st All,
After th’ Idea of thy Minde,
Conferring Forme to every kinde.
Thou wert, Thou art, Thou wilt be ever;
And Thine Elect, rejectest never.