 | Divine poems |  |
The Loyns of the Minde Girded: or An Holy Vow.
There is a GOD! My Soul, how durst thou Stray!Thou'lt Meet His Vengeance if thou go this way!
Return! Return! lo, this Path seems too Broad:
Here Many goe: the VVay to Heaven's no Road.
My Soule, put on thy Garments: Gird them fast:
'Twill make thee Comely, thus to go Straight-lac't.
And now I am Resolv'd: in spight of Hell,
And my False Heart, I'le still strive to Do well.
In all my Warfare I'le Hold fast My SHIELD.
Then Satan Do thy worst, Ile win the Field.
| Divine poems | |