O let me ftill

Write thee great God, and me a child: Let me be foft and fupple to thy will, Small to myself, to others mild, Behither ill.

Although by stealth

My flesh get on; yet let her fifter My foul bid nothing, but preserve her wealth: The growth of flesh is but a blister; Childhood is health.

16. Nature.

ULL of rebellion, I would die,

Or fight, or travel, or deny

That thou haft ought to do with me.

O tame my heart; It is thy highest art

To captivate ftrong holds to thee.

If thou shalt let this venom lurk,
And in fuggestions fume and work,
My foul will turn to bubbles straight,

And thence by kind
Vanish into a wind,

Making thy workmanship deceit.

O fmooth my rugged heart, and there
Engrave thy reverend law and fear;

Or make a new one, fince the old

Is fapless grown,

And a much fitter ftone

To hide my duft, than thee to hold.

曆

17. Sin.

ORD, with what care haft thou begirt us round!

Parents first feafon us: then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws; they send us bound To rules of reason, holy meffengers,

Pulpits and fundays, forrow dogging fin,
Afflictions forted, anguish of all sizes,
Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in,
Bibles laid open, millions of surprises,

Bleffings beforehand, ties of gratefulness,

The found of glory ringing in our ears; Without, our fhame; within, our confciences; Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears.

Yet all these fences and their whole array
One cunning bofom-fin blows quite away.

CHEN firft thou didst entice to thee my
I thought the service brave:

So many joys I writ down for my part,
Befides what I might have

Out of my stock of natural delights,
Augmented with thy gracious benefits.

I looked on thy furniture so fine,

And made it fine to me;

Thy glorious household-stuff did me entwine,
And 'tice me unto thee.

heart,

Such ftars I counted mine: both heaven and earth Paid me my wages in a world of mirth.

What pleasures could I want, whose King I served,
Where joys my fellows were?

Thus argued into hopes, my thoughts reserved
No place for grief or fear;

Therefore my

fudden foul caught at the place,

And made her youth and fierceness seek thy face:

At first thou gavest me milk and sweetnesses;
I had with and way:

my

My days were ftrew'd with flowers and happiness;
There was no month but May.

But with my years forrow did twift and grow,
And made a party unawares for woe.

My flesh began unto my foul in pain,
Sicknesses clave my bones,

Confuming agues dwell in every vein,

And tune my breath to groans: Sorrow was all my foul; I fcarce believed, Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived.

When I got health, thou took'ft away my life,
And more; for my friends die :
My mirth and edge was loft; a blunted knife
Was of more use than I.

Thus thin and lean without a fence or friend,
I was blown through with every storm and wind.

Whereas my birth and spirit rather took

The way that takes the town;
Thou didst betray me to a lingering book,
And wrap me in a gown.

I was entangled in the world of ftrife,
Before I had the power to change my life.

Yet, for I threaten'd oft the fiege to raise,
Not fimpering all mine age,

Thou often didst with Academic praise

Melt and diffolve my rage.

I took thy fweeten'd pill, till I came near;
I could not go away, nor perfevere.

Yet left perchance I should too happy be
In my unhappiness,

Turning my purge to food, thou throwest me

Into more fickneffes.

Thus doth thy power cross-bias me, not making Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking.

Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me
None of my books will show:

I read, and figh, and wish I were a tree;
For fure then I should grow

To fruit or shade: at least fome bird would truft
Her household to me, and I should be juft.

Yet, though thou troublest me, I must be meek ;
In weakness must be ftout,

Well, I will change the service, and go

Some other Master out.

feek

Ah, my dear God! though I am clean forgot,
Let me not love thee, if I love thee not.

19. Repentance.

ORD, I confefs my fin is great;
Great is my fin. Oh! gently treat
With thy quick flower, thy momentary bloom;

Whose life still preffing

Is one undreffing,

A steady aiming at a tomb.

Man's

age is two hours' work, or three; Each day doth round about us see.