Since, Lord, to thee
A narrow way and little gate
Is all the passage, on my infancie
Thou didst lay hold, and antedate
My faith in me.
O let me still
Write thee great God, and me a childe;
Let me be soft and supple to thy will,
Small to myself, to others milde,
Behither ill.
Although by stealth
My flesh get on; yet let her sister
My soul bid nothing, but preserve her wealth.
The growth of flesh is but a blister;
Childhood is health.
(George Herbert)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Money & Wealth Poems, Health Poems, Childhood PoemsBased on Keywords: milde, childe, blister, antedate, infancie, behither