Happy Easter

Easter Wings by George Herbert

Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,

     Though foolishly he lost the same,
           Decaying more and more,
               Till he became
                    Most poore:
                    With thee
                O let me rise
          As larks, harmoniously,
     And sing this day thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne
     And still with sicknesses and shame.
          Thou didst so punish sinne,
               That I became
                     Most thinne.
                     With thee
                Let me combine,
           And feel thy victorie:
      For, if I imp my wing on thine,
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.