Classic Poem

Of praer.

By prayer, we doe hold
Converse with god, and soe
By frequent use, we grow more bold
And to him, freely goe.

Pray'r is an arrow shot
To heaven in a trice
Its foes, hinder itt, they can not
Unto the throne itt flys.

Pray'r is a key were by
Wee doe unlock the door
Of sacred, holy, tresury
And great, abundant, store.

Let mee alone saith god
To Moses, when he prays
Why, who dos hold, that thou canst not
Against him, make esays.

Tis sweet, to make our moane
To man, much more to god
pray'r finds acese, unto the throne
Wher's help, when man cannot.

Is it soe good to have,
The ear, of some great king
Gods ears atend, to what thou'lt crave
And he will send it in.

Through Christs interces'on
Great things, ar by itt wrought
Tis by the spirit, still alone
That we, to pray, ar taught.

By faith, & pray'r, we thrive
And doe from heav'n draw down
That which will make us, soon arive
Unto our glorious Crown.

By pray'r it is wee come
To live in heaven here
And frequently, wee visit home
A purchase bought full deer.

Whilst att gods feet we ly
By pray'r we gain apace
An holy familiarity
To plead, with him for grace.

Give me, this holy art
By faith, to strive with thee
That I may wind into thine hart
And always thriving bee.