Classic Poem

The dearest Lord of Heaven gave
Himself an Off'ring once for me:
The dearest Thing on Earth I have,
Now, Lord, I'l offer unto Thee.
I See, my best Enjoyments here
Are Loans, and Flow'rs, and Vanities;
E're well-Enjoy'd they disappear:
Vain Smoke, they pierce and Leave o e Eyes .
But I Beleeve, O Glorious Lord,
That when I Seem to Lose these Toyes,
What's Lost, will fully be Restor'd,
In Glory, with Eternal Joyes.
I do Beleeve, That I and Mine,
Shall Come to Everlasting Rest;
Because, Blest JESUS, We are Thine,
And with thy Promises are Blest.
I do Beleeve, That Every Bird
Of Mine, which to the ground shall fall,
Does fall at they Kind Will and Word;
Nor I, nor It, is hurt at all.
Now my Beleeving Soul does Hear
This among the Glad Angels told:
I know, Thou dost thy Maker Fear,
From whom thou nothing dost withold.