Only our souls were left an inward light,
To feel our weakness, and confess Thy might.
Sir H. Wotton.
Still let us, Lord, with grace be blest,
Who in thy guardian mercy rest,
Extend thy mercy’s arms to me,
The weakest soul that trusts in Thee;
And never let me lose thy love,
’Till I, even I, am crowned above.
Dryden.