- Never weather-beaten sail
- Thomas Campion
- Exported from Wikisource on 02/16/20
- Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.
- Never tired pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more,
- Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast:
- O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest.
- Ever blooming are the joys of Heaven's high Paradise.
- Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes:
- Glory there the sun outshines whose beams the blessed only see:
- O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to thee!
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