Midnight

WHEN to my Eyes
Whilst deep sleep others catches,
           Thine host of spies,
The stars, shine in their watches,
           I do survey
           Each busy ray,
And how they work, and wind ;
           And wish each beam
           My soul doth stream
With the like ardour shin'd ;
           What emanations,
           Quick vibrations,
And bright stirs are there !
           What thin ejections,
           Cold affections,
And slow motions here !
2.

           Thy heav'ns, some say,
Are a fiery-liquid light,
           Which mingling aye
Streams, and flames thus to the sight.
           Come then, my God !
           Shine on this blood
And water, in one beam ;
           And Thou shalt see
           Kindled by Thee
Both liquors burn, and stream.
           O what bright quickness,
           Active brightness,
And celestial flows,
           Will follow after
           On that water,
Which Thy Spirit blows !