Classic Poem

Meditation II

1

And now my Soul go to,
For thine instruction
What canst thou learn, when thou art told
What Saints have undergone?
Soul I see I have too long
Me with my self compar'd,
And by much poreing on my self
Have been too much ensnar'd.

2

I thought my own condition
Sometimes more sad then any;
But now I see I have not felt
One half so much as many
These Saints forementioned,
It plainly doth appear,
Have suffered more in one Months time,
Then I have in a year.

3

Nay when I ponder well
What Job did once endure:
My Pains and mine Infirmities
Are but Flea-bitings sure.
The Lord was just I know,
In all that them befell:
Both just and gracious toward me
I may account him well.

4

He hath punish'd me
So much as I deserve,
That from his just Commandements
So much and often swerve.
And should he still afflict me
Much more then yet he hath:
He will not wrong me, who deserve,
His everlasting Wrath.

5

And howsoe're the Lord
Be pleas'd with me to deal;
Although he never in this world
Should me release or heal;
O let my Will submit
To his that is most just;
Let me not murmure, but abase
My self unto the dust.

6

Lord make me thankful too
For all that gentleness
Which in thy Chastenings towards me
Thou daily do'st express
For Mercy 'tis that I
Who more, much more transgress,
Then many of God's precious Saints,
And yet afflicted less.