Qui Virtutes Theohilae Praedicat, Religioni Non Gloriae Studeat. Noverim Te, Domine, Noverim Me! Poem by Edward Benlowes

Qui Virtutes Theohilae Praedicat, Religioni Non Gloriae Studeat. Noverim Te, Domine, Noverim Me!



Ore--come me not with your Perfumes, ô Friends!
My greatest Worth, to shew I'm nothing, tends.
Praise, wait on Heav'n. Th' Host of an humble Heart
Excells the sacred Hecatombs of Art.
Grant, LORD, my Life may parallel my Layes!
They me too much, I Thee too little, praise.

Friday, October 15, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: friends
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