Classic Poem

To the tune of that Psalme.

If God build not the house, and lay
The ground-work sure; who ever build,
It cannot stand one stormie day:
If God be not the cities shield,
 If he be not their barres and wall;
 In vain is watch-tower, men, and all.

Though then thou wak'st when others rest,
Though rising thou prevent'st the Sunne;
Though with lean care thou daily feast,
Thy labour's lost, and thou undone:
 But God his childe will feed and keep,
 And draw the curtains to his sleep.

Though th' hast a wife fit, young, and fair,
An heritage heirs to advance;
Yet canst thou not command an heir;
For heirs are Gods inheritance:
 He gives the seed, the bud, the bloom;
 He gives the harvest to the wombe.

And look as arrows, by strong arm
In a strong bow drawn to the head,
Where they are meant, will surely harm,
And if they hit, wound deep and dead;
 Children of youth are even so;
 As harmfull, deadly, to a foe.

That man shall live in blisse and peace,
Who fills his quiver with such shot:
Whose garners swell with such increase,
Terrour and shame assail him not;
 And though his foes deep hatred bear,
 Thus arm'd, he shall not need to fear.