Classic Poem

May I not this day take my pleasure,
And hear Thy voice, O God at leisure?
One day will break no square, men say;
And wilt Thou be more strict than they?
O give me leave now to rejoice,
And hereafter hear Thy voice.
Thy voice which doth to vertue call,
And to repentance summons all,
But that I do not love to hear,
It sounds harsh discords in my ear,
Whilst I am in my youthful blood;
When I grow old, it may be good,
To take Thy counsel, and attend
Thy will when I draw neer my end.
Then 'twill be time enough I trust,
To be temperate, chaste and just,
Till then, I hope Thou wilt dispence
With my want of innocence,
With my sports and wickednesse.
I know Lord Thou canst do no lesse
Then hear my prayer at the last,
For Thou Thy faithful word hast past
To pardon me when ere that I
Shall implore Thy clemency.
The theif upon the Cross did find
Thy mercy: the same gracious mind
Thou still retainest; may I not then
Expect to find the like agen?
I am resolv'd what ere comes on't
To hazard ev'n my soul upon't. God .

Bold sinner, do not thou presume
Upon My grace; a sweet perfume,
Or pleasing sacrifice doth from
A late repentance seldom come.
Canst thou believe that tree's ought worth,
That not till Winter, fruit brings forth?
Or wouldst thou be content thy wife
Should play the harlot all her life,
And at the last should render thee
Her love and service, when that she
Through age and sickness overworn
Is most unfit to serve thy turn?
Judg then thyself if thou wouldst be
So served as thou servest Me?
Thou'dst have her to thyself alone
Before her youth and beauty's gone;
I must thy love and service have
When thou art dropping in thy grave:
When thou art lame or impotent,
Then thou wilt be a penitent.
Fool not away thy soul with this
Presumption, for the highway 'tis
To hell; a double danger lyes
In such late conformities:
For that man that doth delay
To hearken to My voice To-day
Will be To-morrow more unfit,
And have his eare quite deaf to it.
Each cranny there will be fast barr'd
And his heart will grow so hard
Through long continuance in sin,
That not a word can enter in;
Although I call and call again
He is still deaf, 'tis all in vain.
Besides, should he knock at My door
When he is dying, not before,
He shall perceive it then too late,
Fast lock'd will be My Mercy-Gate,
Because My justice will not bear
That I should his petition hear,
Who would not hear My Voice at all,
Albeit I did him often call.
O then take heed, do not delay
The hearing of My voice a day.
The thief o' th' Crosse no pattern is
For thy deferr'd repentance: his
Was extraordinary, thou
Ought'st not to look for the like now.
When Christ is crucifi'd once more
Presume upon it, not before.