Classic Poem

I blesse those calmes,
Which gave me leisure,
For to endite these holy psalmes,
In stead of songs of pleasure.
I praise my God, who mee inspires
With pure, and sanctify'd desires.

Although my Muse,
Was not so chast,
As some immur'd, untouch'd Recluse,
I did no paper waste,
To varnish with my rymes of praise,
The fame of any wanton Thais.

Although I was
No Rechabite,
I never did dote on a glasse,
Like to Anacreon light:
Nor ever had I a designe,
Lines to sophisticate with wine.

I drinke no water
(Like Cassius)
Am no Apicius at a platter,
Nor yet a Lessius:
I eate and drinke; but not by weight,
Yet am no slave to appetite.

(Lord) let thy grace
Turne my desires,
From objects, that are vaine, and base:
Fill mee with holy fires,
Least I become a brutish thing
Like the transform'd Assyrian King.