Midnight

WHEN to my Eyes Whilst deep sleep others catches, Thine host of spies, The stars, shine in their watches, I do survey Each busy ray, And how they work, and wind ; And wish each beam My soul doth stream With the like ardour shin'd ; What emanations, Quick vibrations, And bright stirs are there ! What thin ejections, Cold affections, And slow motions here ! 2. Thy heav'ns, some say, Are a fiery-liquid light, Which mingling aye Streams, and flames thus to the sight. Come then, my God ! Shine on this blood And water, in one beam ; And Thou shalt see Kindled by Thee Both liquors burn, and stream. O what bright quickness, Active brightness, And celestial flows, Will follow after On that water, Which Thy Spirit blows !