The boyst'rous winds, and raging waves;
So triumph I. And shine more bright
In sad Affliction's darksom night.
That splendid, but yet toilsome Crown,
Regardlesly I trample down.
With joy I take this Crown of Thorn,
Though sharp, yet easie to be born.
That heav'nly Crown, already mine,
I view with eyes of faith divine.
I slight vain things; and do embrace