Classic Poem

The soull desiring faster growth and speedy ripnese.

That this agrees unto thy will
I am well satisfi'd
That I should climb apace, the hill
wher glory, doth reside.

Thou lovst to see thy plants to thrive.
which ar set by thy hand
And to maturity arive
in this thy lower land.

Unto thy grace. no bound is set
this doth encourage me
To hope, that I, through ev'ry let
may grow up unto thee.

Whatever any have atain'd
that Lord, I will desire
What ever any, might have gaind
to that, I would aspire.

Below perfection, I would not
sit down contentedly
Oh let this be my blessed lot
A quik maturity.