Classic Poem

Who vengeance on my wrongs hast showne,
And by my Foes, my Foe ore-thrown:
Let not his fall invite
My Soul by close delight;
To make thy just revenge her own.

Thou hast reverted on his head
The mischiefs he for others spread,
Unwish'd, unask'd by me:
That all the Earth may see;
Thou did'st my Cause in judgement plead.

I will not, dare not imprecate
The like on all that bear me hate.
No: to their Souls dispence
Pardon and Penitence,
Charg'd with no due afflictions weight.

Deprive me not of Theams so fit
For Mercy: but their sinns remit
Whose bold Demerit climbs,
Next those ungratefull Crimes,
Of which thou Me art pleas'd t'acquit.

Their Sinns be to their Conscience prest,
In Sorrow not in Judgement drest;
The Thunder that was thrown
So dreadfully at one,
Be a just terror to the rest.

Fear with repentant Knowledge joyn,
Of their malitious black Designe:
That to thy mercies they,
Finding the spacious way;
May thy devouring Wrath decline.

Lord, send thy Truth and Mercy down,
In them set fast thy servants Throne,
Let Peace and Justice meet,
With mutuall Kisses greet,
And prop my never fading Crown.

Be to our pray'r for Foes intent;
Whom (when thy foes) thou didst prevent
With offer'd Clemency,
Sending thy Son to dye
For them who on his Death were bent.