Classic Poem

Eternall wisedom armd with might,
With Truth and Right my Reason clear;
To which so make my will adhere,
No threats may from their Dictates fright:

Thou did'st not raise me to a Throne,
To barre me common liberty.
Shall that be nam'd a crime in me,
Which others as a vertue owne?

Unjustly they their King deny
The freedom, which all mortalls claim:
Whilst ev'n themselves exact the same,
With partiall pertinacity.

To thee I pray who through the maze
Of my own thoughts, and suits (like snares
Spread to involve my soul in cares)
Canst surely guide: make plain thy waies.

Let not my Passions cloud thy light;
Thy Word my Rule, thy Praise my End.
To all I cannot, will not bend
To some; Thee pleas'd all else I slight.

Who Plots unweav'st, and the Self-wise
Entangl'st in their own designe;
To thy wise Truth my soul incline,
And mens esteeme I shall despise.

The lesse my wisedom shall appear,
More thine that guide'st me shines; whilst I
Nothing through willfullness deny,
Nor grant through Flattery, or Fear.

No suits by my consent be sign'd,
Injurious to the publike good:
No publike benefits withstood,
To sooth my own dissenting mind.

To such, though from my Enemies,
Teach me to give a free accesse;
Our honest errours thou canst blesse,
As blast the Counsells falsely wise.

Since private words thy scourge obey,
Teach me to poise what I declare.
The bolder mens Petitions are,
Let me the more my Answers weigh.

Though troubles Me and mine attend,
And Peace our Pressures would acquit;
Yet let me not to purchase it,
My Conscience (which is thine) expend.