Anne Bradstreet: Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting

Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting

 Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise, But ah! It's not in me. My sinking heart I pray Thee raise So shall I give it Thee.  My life as spider's webb's cut off, Thus fainting have I said, And living man no more shall see But be in silence laid.  My feeble spirit Thou didst revive, My doubting Thou didst chide, And though as dead mad'st me alive, I here a while might 'bide.  Why should I live but to Thy praise? My life is hid with Thee. O Lord, no longer be my days Than I may fruitful be.