No More Learning

66. TO GOD.

God gives not only corn for need,
But likewise sup'rabundant seed;
Bread for our service, bread for show,
Meat for our meals, and fragments too:
He gives not poorly, taking some
Between the finger and the thumb;
But for our glut and for our store,
Fine flour press'd down, and running o'er.


67. A WILL TO BE WORKING.

Although we cannot turn the fervent fit
Of sin, we must strive 'gainst the stream of it;
And howsoe'er we have the conquest miss'd,
'Tis for our glory that we did resist.


68. CHRIST'S PART.

Christ, He requires still, wheresoe'er He comes
To feed or lodge, to have the best of rooms:
Give Him the choice; grant Him the nobler part
Of all the house: the best of all's the heart.


69. RICHES AND POVERTY.

God could have made all rich, or all men poor;
But why He did not, let me tell wherefore:
Had all been rich, where then had patience been?
Had all been poor, who had His bounty seen?


70. SOBRIETY IN SEARCH.
To seek of God more than we well can find,
Argues a strong distemper of the mind.


71. ALMS.

Give, if thou canst, an alms; if not, afford,
Instead of that, a sweet and gentle word:
_God crowns our goodness wheresoe'er He sees,
On our part, wanting all abilities_.


72. TO HIS CONSCIENCE.

Can I not sin, but thou wilt be
My private protonotary?
Can I not woo thee to pass by
A short and sweet iniquity?
I'll cast a mist and cloud upon
My delicate transgression
So utter dark as that no eye
Shall see the hugg'd impiety;
Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please
And wind all other witnesses;
And wilt not thou with gold be ti'd
To lay thy pen and ink aside?
That in the mirk and tongueless night
Wanton I may, and thou not write?
It will not be. And, therefore, now,
For times to come I'll make this vow,
From aberrations to live free;
So I'll not fear the Judge or thee.

_Protonotary_, once the title of the chief clerk in the Courts of
Common Pleas and King's Bench.


73. TO HIS SAVIOUR.

Lord, I confess, that Thou alone art able
To purify this my Augean stable:
Be the seas water, and the land all soap,
Yet if Thy blood not wash me, there's no hope.