Behold the Excellency of My Broken Heart

Consider the words purified Seven times in a furnace Of the earth Hasten through the desolate Valleys of emptiness and the Vanity of all material things Take up thine infinite portion And exceeding great reward Pity them as their soul Cleaves to their dust and dances With everlasting wrath Chide thy heart for its foolishness And thy sighings and begin to Sing “I have God as my possession! I will be like Him and I shall See Him as he is”