Classic Poem

You that of Godlinesse do make mock,
And those that are religious, jeere,
As if they were your laughing stock;
Know that ere long God will appear
To judge this wicked world; and then
They wil be found to be the only men.

Though now you tread them underneath your feete,
And no more reckoning of them make
Then of the dust that's in the street,
The time shall come when God wil take
Them for his richest jewels, and
Prize them, as 'twere the signet on's right hand.

Yea to your shame and wonder He will raise
The value of them above all
That you can think is worthy praise,
Or whatsoe're thou precious cal:
Gold is but drosse, pearls pebbles are
To what they shall be: there is no compare.

And how can it be otherwise, when they
Derive their lustre from His face?
Not Sol himself shines at mid-day
With so illustrious a grace;
For every grace which they have here,
Shal be a glory in in the highest sphere.

I care not then how I am vilified,
Or what the world doth make of me;
Let men at pleasure me deride,
So that I may God's jewel be:
For though I now am trampled down,
Hee'le make me up a diamond in His crown.