Classic Poem

A quid retribuam before a sacrament

Poor-Sin-bound-Naked-Creature-Man nere knowes
What to return for that His God bestowes
But as Prospereties encrease goes less
In retribution of Thankfullnes
His eyes not opned but with Clay made dimm
Renders that Miracle not wrought on Him
Remaines soe stupid, but wher Faith's declind
To unbeleefe such are for ever blind
Now that I may like judgment stil prevent
By entertaining True-Soules Nutriment
Not Poyson, let example spurr me on
To take the Cup filld with Salvation
And praise His Holy Name that did prepare
Such Cates For Those heavy and Laden are
Sinns Dromidaries swift by nature led
To run to evil heer unburthened
By One that bore both Cross and shame to free
The plyant Branch of Eves Posterety
(Soe have I tender Saplins seen unbroak
When Tempests have o'recome the sturdier Oake)
And if in sacrefize we'd pass degrees
The best for Acceptation's from the knees
Outwardly and inwardly exprest wherby
To notefy unfaignd Humilety
For such deny to shew repentance thus
Surely forget Christ came from Heavn to us
And Those of that slack memory may know
Their Portions earth, They shall not to Him goe
Who's Riches, Rayment, Food and all releef
To Them Contemn This world make Him Their Chief.