Our Father, O Wondrous condescention of a God! To poor unworthy sinful flesh and blood; Lest the high Mistery of Divinity, Thy sacred Title, shou’d too Awful be; 5 Lest trembling prostrates should not freely come, As to their Parent, to their native home; Lest thy incomprehensible God-head shou’d Not by dull Man; be rightly understood; Thou deignst to take a name, that fits our sense, 10 Yet lessens not thy glorious Excellence. Which art in Heaven, Thy Mercy ended not, when thou didst own Poor lost and out-cast Man to be thy Son; ’Twas not enough the Father to dispense, In Heaven thou gav’st us an Inheritance; 15 A Province, where thou’st deign’d each Child a share; Advance my tim’rous Soul, thou needst not fear, Thou hast a God! a God and Father! there. Hallowed be thy Name, For ever be it, may my Pious Verse, That shall thy great and glorious name rehearse, 20 By singing Angels still repeated be, And tune a Song that may be worthy thee; While all the Earth with Ecchoing Heav’n shall joyn, To Magnifie a Being so Divine. Thy Kingdom come, Prepare my Soul ’gainst that Triumphant day, 25 Adorn thy self with all that’s Heavenly gay, Put on the Garment, which no spot can stain, And with thy God! thy King, and Father! Reign; When all the Joyful Court of Heaven shall be 172One everlasting day of Jubilee; 30 Make my Soul fit but there to find a room, Then when thou wilt, Lord let thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done With all submission prostrate I resign My Soul, my Faculties, and Will to thine; For thou, Oh Lord, art Holy, Wise, and Just, 35 And raising Man from forth the common dust, Hast set thy Sacred Image on his Soul, And shall the Pot the Potters hand controul? Poor boasting feeble Clay, that Error shun, Submit and let th’ Almighty’s Will be done. In Earth as it is in Heaven. 40 For there the Angels, and the Saints rejoyce, Resigning all to the blest Heavenly Voice; Behold the Seraphins his Will obey, Wilt thou less humble be, fond Man than they? Behold the Cherubins and Pow’rs Divine, 45 And all the Heavenly Host in Homage joyn; Shall their Submission yield, and shall not thine? Nay, shall even God submit to Flesh and Blood? For our Redemption, our Eternal good, Shall he submit to stripes, nay even to die 50 A Death reproachful, and of Infamy? Shall God himself submit, and shall not I? Vain, stubborn Fool, draw not thy ruine on, But as in Heav’n; on Earth Gods Will be done; Give us this day our daily Bread, For oh my God! as boasting as we are, 55 We cannot live without thy heavenly care, With all our Pride, not one poor Morsel’s gain’d, Till by thy wondrous Bounty first obtain’d; With all our flatter’d Wit, our fanci’d sense. We have not to one Mercy a pretence 60 Without the aid of thy Omnipotence. Oh God, so fit my soul, that I may prove A pitied Object of thy Grace and Love; May my soul be with Heavenly Manna fed, And deign my grosser part thy daily bread. <target id="page_173" target-type="page">173</target>And forgive us our Trepasses 65 How prone we are to Sin, how sweet were made The pleasures, our resistless hearts invade! Of all my Crimes, the breach of all thy Laws Love, soft bewitching Love! has been the cause; Of all the Paths that Vanity has trod, 70 That sure will soonest be forgiven of God; If things on Earth may be to Heaven resembled, It must be love, pure, constant, undissembled: But if to Sin by chance the Charmer press, Forgive, O Lord, forgive our Trepasses. As we forgive them that Trespass against us. 75 Oh that this grateful, little Charity, Forgiving others all their Sins to me, May with my God for mine attoning be. I’ve sought around, and found no foe in view, Whom with the least Revenge I would pursue, 80 My God, my God, dispense thy Mercies too. Lead us not into Temptation Thou but permits it, Lord, ’Tis we go on, And give our selves the Provocation; ’Tis we, that prone to pleasures which invite, Seek all the Arts to heighten vain delight; 85 But if without some Sin we cannot move, May mine proceed no higher than to love; And may thy vengeance be the less severe, Since thou hast made the object lov’d so fa[i]r. But deliver us from Evil. From all the hasty Fury Passion breeds, 90 And into deaf and blinded Error leads, From words that bear Damnation in the sound, And do the Soul as well as Honour wound, That by degrees of Madness lead us on To Indiscretion, Shame, Confusion; 95 From Fondness, Lying, and Hypocrisie, From my neglect of what I ow to thee; From Scandal, and from Pride, divert my thought, And from my Neighbour grant I covet nought; From black Ingratitude, and Treason, Lord, 174100 Guard me, even in the least unreverend word. In my Opinion, grant, O Lord, I may Be guided in the true and rightful way, And he that guides me may not go astray; Do thou, oh Lord, instruct me how to know 105 Not whither, but which way I am to go; For how should I an unknown passage find, When my instructing Guide himself is blind. All Honour, Glory, and all Praise be given To Kings on Earth, and to our God in Heaven. ———Amen.