Lord, with what care hast thou
begirt us round!
Parents first
season us; then schoolmasters
Deliver us to laws;
they send us bound
To rules of reason, holy messengers,
Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow-dogging sin,
Afflictions sorted,
anguish of all sizes,
Fine nets and
stratagems to catch us in,
Bibles laid open, millions of surprises,
Blessings beforehand, ties of gratefulness,
The sound of glory ringing in
our ears,
Without, our shame, within,
our consciences,
Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears.
Yet all these fences and their
whole array
One cunning bosom-sin blows
quite away.
