Upon those pure and virgin apprehensions which I had in my infancy, I made this poem:

1

That childish thoughts such jogs inspire,

Doth make my wonder, and His glory higher,

His bounty, and my wealth more great

It chews His Kingdom, and His work complete.

In which there is not anything,

Not meet to be the joy of Cherubim.

2

He in our childhood with us walks,

And with our thoughts mysteriously He talks;

He often visiteth our minds,

But cold acceptance in us ever finds:

We send Him often grieved away,

Who else would show us all His Kingdom's joy.

3

O Lord, I wonder at Thy Love,

Which did my infancy so early move:

But more at that which did forbear

And move so long, though slighted many a year:

But most of all, at last that Thou

Thyself shouldst me convert, I scarce know how.

4

Thy gracious motions oft in vain

Assaulted me: my heart did hard remain

Longtime! I sent my God away

Grieved much, that He could not give me His joy.

I careless was, nor did regard

The End for which He all those thoughts prepared.

5

But now, with new and open eyes,

I see beneath, as if above the skies,

And as I backward look again

See all His thoughts and mine most clear arid plain.

He did approach, He me did woo;

I wonder that my God this thing would do,

6

From nothing taken first ,I was;

What wondrous things His glory brought to pass!

Now in the World I Him behold,

And me, enveloped in precious gold;

In deep abysses of delights,

In present hidden glorious benefits.

7

These thoughts His goodness long before

Prepared as precious and celestial store

With curious art in me inlaid,

That childhood might itself alone be said

My Tutor, Teacher, Guide to be,

Instructed then even by the Deitie.