LORD, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell; A little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof; Under the spars of which I lie Both soft, and dry; Where Thou my chamber for to ward Hast set a Guard Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep Me, while I sleep. Low is my porch, as is my Fate, Both void of state; And yet the threshold of my door Is worn by the poor, Who thither come, and freely get Good words, or meat: Like as my Parlour, so my Hall And Kitchen's small: A little Buttery, and therein A little Bin, Which keeps my little loaf of Bread Unchipt, unflead [95] : Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar Make me a fire, Close by whose living coal I sit, And glow like it. LORD, I confess too, when I dine, The Pulse is Thine, And all those other bits, that be There placed by Thee; The Worts, the Purslain, and the mess Of water-cress, Which of Thy kindness Thou hast sent; And my content Makes those, and my belovéd Beet, To be more sweet. 'Tis Thou that crown'st my glittering Hearth With guiltless mirth; And giv'st me Wassail-bowls to drink, Spiced to the brink. Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand That soils [96] my land; And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, Twice ten for one: Thou mak'st my teeming Hen to lay Her egg each day: Besides my healthful Ewes to bear Me twins each year: The while the conduits of my Kine Run Cream, (for Wine,) All these, and better, Thou dost send Me, to this end, That I should render, for my part, A thankful heart; Which, fired with incense, I resign, As wholly Thine; But the acceptance, -- that must be, My CHRIST, by Thee. Footnotes: [95] unflead, may be, unmouldy, or, unchipped [96] soils, manures |