Classic Poem

June 26 73 two foes.

This world, and I, can nere agree
I wonder what's the matter
I frown on it, and itt on me
Wee dont, each other flatter
Wee ne're can cotten long togather
Oh when wilt thou, two foes disever

I'me far more fearfull of its smiles
then of its lowring looks
Oh keep me, from its subtle wiles
and its deceitfull hooks
Not by its smile, nor by itts frown
Lett me, e're to itt once bow down

I think, I care, as litle for itt
as itt can doe for me
Could I but once, out of it get
I'de gladly. from it, flee
And hope with joy, from itt to goe
When thou its gates, shalt open throw

Tis still to me, an enemy,
and slyly seeks to kill
Yea from my tender infancy
It still, did thawrt, my will
T'was well, I found, from itt, such measure
Which fixt my love, upon durable tresure

It hates because the god above
(I hope) hath out on't chose
If soe, a fig, a straw, for its love
What care I, though it oppose
lett it with sorrow, fill my cup
Thou wilt outt of itt call me up

Ther's none that have, more cause then I
to 'be thankfull unto thee
For writing on it vanity
and imbitt'ring it to me
I care not what from itt, I find
If up my hart, to thee thou'lt wind.