Classic Poem

Of aproach to god, in ordinances.

I come to ly down att thy feet
Fain I would see thy face
Oh Lord, deny me not, the sweet
Influences, of grace

To pray, to hear, to meditate
Is thy declared will.
But Lord att what a wofull rate
To wee thy will, fulfill

A litle length, wee cannot bear
Our harts soon, run astray
Here, & there; and ev'ry where
Soon, they ar gone away

And if through chafing, heat we get
Wee quickly cooll again,
And inconsideratly, wee let
Our harts grow vile, & vain

Oh oft doe we our selfs content
With a bare duty done
When many times our harts ar lent,
After the world to run.

When wee might hold, converse with god
And get into his hart
We're wandring far, to get a rod
Wh'erby att last wee smart

Duty its self's an empty thing
But it is gods command
And he will in it, comfort bring
If wee, by faith attend,

Duty dear god, thou dost apoynt
Whilst wee ar in our way
Oh let thy spirit me anoynt
With fresh suplys each day

To thee my god I can apeall
Dutys will not content
If thou thy self, doe not reveill
I sorow, and Lament

Yett seeing Lord, thou dost command me
Thy will shall bee my law
And if I never, should enjoy thee
My hart would stand in awe

By these sweet streams, let me be Led
With fresh, incomes of strength
Till I injoy the fountain head
And dwell with thee att length