O thou that art the Gate of Heaven, I lift my heart to thee; To thee I look, to thee I cry, To thee I bend the knee.

The clouds are dark about me now, But I believe in morn; I feel thy power in the light, And in the dew of dawn.

Would that I might but sing thy praise, With music sweet and clear, And all thy treasures tell, O Lord, So all the world might hear.

• Lady Mary Wroth