








Early, my God, without delay,
I haste to seek thy face;
My thirsty spirit faints away
Without thy cheering grace.
So pilgrims on the scorching sand
Beneath a burning sky,
Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.
I’ve seen thy glory and thy power
Through all thy temple shine;
My God, repeat that heavenly hour,
That vision so divine.
Not all the blessings of a feast
Can please my soul so well,
As when thy richer grace I taste,
And in thy presence dwell.
Not life itself, with all her joys,
Can my best passions move,
Or raise so high my cheerful voice,
As thy forgiving love.
Thus till my last expiring day
I’ll bless my God and King;
Thus will I lift my hands to pray,
And tune my lips to sing.
If you studied Latin back in your youth, this will bring back memories.
Amo, amas, I love a lass
As a cedar tall and slender;
Sweet cowslip’s grace is her nominative case,
And she’s of the feminine gender.
Rorum, corum, sunt divorum,
Harum, scarum divo;
Tag-rag, merry-derry, periwig and hat-band
Hic hoc horum genitivo.
Can I decline a nymph divine?
Her voice as a flute is dulcis.
Her oculus bright, her manus white,
And soft, when I tacto, her pulse is.
Rorum, corum, sunt divorum,
Harum, scarum divo;
Tag-rag, merry-derry, periwig and hat-band
Hic hoc horum genitivo.
Oh, how bella my puella,
I’ll kiss secula seculorum.
If I’ve luck, sir, she’s my uxor,
O dies benedictorum.
Rorum, corum, sunt divorum,
Harum, scarum divo;
Tag-rag, merry-derry, periwig and hat-band
Hic hoc horum genitivo.