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'Tis that to a Believer, which a night of rest is to the weary Labourer, 2 port to the weather-beaten Mariner, freedom to the fetter-gal'd Prisoner, the marriage - day to the loving Spouse, the day of coronation to the king. Why then should not a Saint conclude with Vid Bressius: Oh that my soul had the wings of a Dove, to fly and make hast to that mountain of God, and Paradice of eternal pleasures: |
It's that to a Believer, which a night of rest is to the weary Labourer, 2 port to the Weather-beaten Mariner, freedom to the fetter-galed Prisoner, the marriage - day to the loving Spouse, the day of coronation to the King. Why then should not a Saint conclude with Vid Bressius: O that my soul had the wings of a Dove, to fly and make haste to that mountain of God, and Paradise of Eternal pleasures: |
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