Classic Poem

My Poole of Bethesda or the effusian of Christs Merits to heal our miseries

When Children would goe, or Cripples stand
Cruttches and stooles are framd for Arme and Hand
To rest upon: least such attemping shall
With out like props occation Them to fall
What are the Sonns of Adam? if we trie
Condemnd to Lamenes and to Infancy
Through sin and soe disabeled to pace
The Paths of Vertue, tread the steps of Grace
Til God of's Mercy pleased to conferr
A Standing-Stoole as if fro'th'Carpenter
Though He Himself was Artist and did frame
The remedy for those were weak and Lame
Soe that without a farther Inquisitian
We all were and are such, Christ's the Phisitian.