Full Lyrics
How long, great God, must I,
Immur'd in this dark Prison lie?
Where at the Grates, and Avenues of Sense,
My Soul must watch to have intelligence;
Where but faint Gleams of thee salute my Sight,
Like doubtful Moonshine in a cloudy Night.
When shall I leave this Magick Sphere,
And be all Mind, all Eye, all Ear?
How cold this Clime! and yet my Sense
Perceives ev'n here thy Influence;
Ev'n here thy strong Magnetick Charms I feel,
And pant, and tremble, like the amorous Steel:
To lower good, and Beauties not Divine,
sometimes my erroneous Needle does decline;
But yet so strong the Sympathy,
It turns, and points again to thee.
I long to see this Excellence,
Which at such distance strikes my Sense:
My'mpatient Soul struggles to disengage
Her wings, from the confinement of her Cage.
Wouldst thou, great Love, this Pris'ner once set free,
How would she hasten to be link'd to thee?
She'd for no Angels Conduct stay,
but fly, and love on all the way.
