Classic Poem

Another to the same purpose

The prience of this world is cast out
Though for a while, he makes a rout
with victory
triumphantly
Christ shall make thee, upon his head
With acclamations, for to tread

This ravaning, devouring, kite
To heaven, cannot take his flight
for to destroy
or thee anoy
Time, and this world's his boundery
He cannot soare above the sky

Wee cant be quiet here below
But he will always att us throw
his fiery darts
to wound our harts
In company, & when alone
Hee seeks to make our harts, his throne

His date shall shortly be expir.d
And grace shall only bee admir'd
for setting thee
for ever free
From all his rage, and tirany
Unto a blest eternity