Consideration

Fool that I was, that little of my Span
Which I have sinn'd untill it stiles me Man,
I counted life till now, henceforth I'l say
'Twas but a drowzy lingring, or delay:
Let it forgotten perish, let none tell
That I then was, to live is to live well.
Off then thou Old Man, and give place unto
The Ancient of daies; Let him renew
Mine Age like to the Eagles, and endow
My breast with Innocence, That he whom Thou
Hast made a man of sin, and subt'ly sworn
A Vassall to thy Tyranny, may turn
Infant again, and having all of Child,
Want wit hereafter to be so beguild;
O thou that art the way, direct me still
In this long tedious Pilgrimage, and till
Thy Voice be born, Lock up my looser Tongue,
He only is best grown that's thus turn'd young.
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