Classic Poem

Experience of the same.

What has this world, been unto thee?
A most unkinnd step dame
This is all it, has been to mee
Then Lord to thee I came.

And thou dist sweetly take me up
Of me thou hadst a care
Thou fed'st; & also filst, my cup
Thy meat, and drink, is rare.

How sweet was this voice once to me
Yea ar not of this world
But out of it, I have chousen thee
Therfore it hats, by itt thou'rt hurlt.

Bee of good chear, its overcome
Its overcome, for thee
Christ has prepar'd a glorious room
With him, thou'lt shortly bee.

Hee'th struck thy fingers of from cretures
Oh blessed be his name,!
That thou mayst veiw Christs lovly features
To woo thy love, he came.

Farwell world, I care not for thee
Thou art but durt, to me
Farewell earth, with all thy glory
Lord, call me, home to thee.

Thou art the first, & alsoe last.
All cretures, they doe faill
Thou art the only, only, best
To thee Lord, I would sayl.

On earth, thou never foundst content
In any thing but god
When to a creture, love was lent
It surely prov'd thy rod.

Of all outward aflictions
This I cannot well bear
Thine own peoples, reflections
'Cause they'r to me, soe dear.

I know they cannot of me speak
Worse then indeed I am
Why should itt then, my hart thus break
Whi'st I, muse on the same.

Oh let me not, dishonour thee
Whilst in the world I dwell
If, me hart, doe not deceive me
Tis worse to me, then hell.

If that my hart aprov,d may be
To thine alseeing eye
Then what though man condemne me
Thou'rt neer to Justifie.

How sweet hast thou been unto me
When bitter was my cup
pure fountain love, did then run free
When creture streams dry'd up.