Classic Poem

June 25 73

For what thou givst, I'le thankfull be
And what thou dost, deny to mee
sence of the want of itt
shall make me, att thy feet

To ly low, in humility
Plunging, in self abhorrancy
as unworthy, to be
once, looked att by thee

Those that doe nothing, (Lord) deserve
Should humbly take, what thou dost carve
always adoring thy
free, soveraignity

Nought, I can chaleng att thy hand
Or in the least, of thee demand
what e're thou givest me
alls from thy bounty, free

Oh lett not poor, and worthlese clay
Contend with him, who doth display
his grace, as he sees fitt.
And none, may question itt.

Let not proud dust, contest again
with him, who doth, & still, will reign
and deall out unto men
what he sees good, and when.

I should despair, of much, from thee
But that thy grace, is purely free
and thou somtimes dost take
The vilest, for to make

Thy glory shine. conspicuously
Unto the eyes, of standers-by
I will not then despair,
To feed on nobler fare.

Thy promise, thou wilt not forget.
To thosse whose apitites, ar whet,
Whosse hungry souls, cant rest,
Till filled, with the best.

The hungry, thou wilt surely fill,
And if not heare, on Zion hill,
Thou hast laid up in store,
For thosse, that long for more.