Classic Poem

Father of Heaven! after many days,
And many wasted nights in sorrow spent,
Musing on charms for my misfortune sent,
To light the flame that on my bosom preys;
Vouchsafe at length my thoughts tow'rd thee to raise,
That I henceforth, on better purpose bent
May foil my adversary's fell intent
Escaping from the thousand snares he lays.
For see O Lord! 'tis now eleven years
Since first my neck unto that yoke I bowed
Whose humblest slaves are scorned with greatest pride;
Take pity then, on my unworthy tears,
And chasing hence the idle thoughts that crowd
Remind me, thou this day wert crucified!