All after pleasures as I rid one day, My horse and I, both tir'd, body and mind, With full cry of affections, quite astray; I took up in the next inn I could find. There when I came, whom found I but my dear, My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief Of pleasures brought me to Him, ready there To be all pa**engers' most sweet relief? O Thou, whose glorious, yet contracted light, Wrapt in night's mantle, stole into a manger, Since my dark sould and brutish is Thy right, To Man of all beasts be not thou a stranger: Furnish and deck my soul, that thou mayst have A better lodging than a rack or grave.