03 May Mentalechy

Tear down this Idol I again erected,
O Lord! that You have I yet rejected;
Peer into the contours of my hidden-part
Addicted to dull brass glories-of-heart.
Ah, that I valued honor among men all
To chant my name — in my sad recall,
The fictions’ attentions clouded my mind
O God! even intended to also but find
Your countenance there, not to adore
But approve with bare praise, no more:
Only a nod or a smile in Your holy pride
And this much I can hardly dare confide…
Where in my night-nocked heart I do
What in the day I never yet asked of You.