Classic Poem

Sith Good thou lou'st (ô God, Goods only Drift!)
Why giu'st thou me a Mind which Ills depraue?
If Grace I cannot haue, without thy guift,
Why plagu'st thou me for that I cannot haue?
Can my powr make thy Powr obedient be,
(Myne being so fraile, and Thine so infinite)
That, maugre thine, I might wrest Grace from Thee,
And, with strong hand, to rend from Thee thy Sprite?
O no! it cannot: but, its in my powr
To Sin, and so, to thrust thy Spirite from myne:
Then, ô thou Fount of goodnesse, on me powr
(What's farre, aboue my reache) that Spirit of Thine:
If not, I can but feare, that can but fall:
So, can despaire, but cannot do withall.