Thirsting for God

I hope the suggestions under my last post yields me some new poetry reading. Until then, I picked up my volume of William Cowper. I don't know the relative virtue of his talent, but I know I enjoy and envy his honesty in composition.

"Thirsting for God" visits a heart as it is, and longs to be. It mixes hope and lament. It also makes no pretense before its reader:

THIRSTING FOR GOD

I thirst, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy words, Immanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasure there.

It was the sight of thy dear cross
First weaned my soul from earthly thing
And taught me to esteem as dross
The mirth of fools and pomp of kings

I want that grace that springs from thee,
That quickens all things where it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me,
Bloom as the myrtle or the rose.

Dear fountain of delight unknown,
No longer sink below the brim:
But overflow and pour me down
A living and life-giving stream.

For sure, of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father's eye,
None proves less grateful to his care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.