Made when my Spirits Were Sunk Very Low with Sickness and Sorrow (by Hester Pulter)

Droop not my soul nor hang the wing

For thou shalt shortly hallelujahs sing

To our invisible, eternal King.

 

Rouse up, my soul, shake off these rags of clay,

And thorough all the suns and worlds make way

To everlasting life and day.

 

But stay my soul, thou canst not go;

Thy great Creator He says, “No”,

For thou must praise Him longer here below.

Then let me here my few and evil days

Breathe nothing forth but thanks and praise.