Still still, without ceasing
I feel it's increasing
This favour of selfish desire
And often exclaim,
Let it be gone in flames
Of love and joy that never expire
I had words to explain
What she must sustain
Who dies in trust and it's ways
With hate and a fright
Distrust and delight
Alternately chequer his days
So sweetly, so severe
I would make this appear
In that you pleased to award
No more in the sweet
Than the bitter I meet
Like a steel of iron rod
Now I tell a story
Full of love and hate
Full of awe and worries
Not helping in my awful state
Thy words of simple trust
I keep and maintain the first.