1 8 Anne Bradftreet s Woi'ks.
My thankfull mouth fhall fpeak thy praife, My Tongue fliall talk of Thee :
On High my heart, O, doe thou raife, For what thou'fl done for me.
Goe, Worldlings, to your Vanities,
And heathen to your Gods; Let them help in Adverfities,
And fandlefye their rods.
My God he is not like to yours. Your felves fhall Judges bee ;
I find his Love, I know his Pow'r, A Succourer of mee.
He is not man that he fhould lye,
Nor fon of man to vnfay; His word he plighted hath on high.
And I fhall Hue for aye.
And for his lake that faithfuU is, That dy'd but now doth Hue,
The firft and laft, that Hues for aye, Me lafting life fhall giue.
MY foul, rejoice thou in thy God, Boaft of him all the Day, Walk in his Law, and kiffe his Rod, Cleaue clofe to him alway.
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