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Welcome, what e’re my tender flesh may say,
Welcome affliction, to my reason Still;
Though hard, and rugged on this Rock I Lay,
A sure foundation, which if rais’d with Skill,
Shall compass Babel’s aim, and reach th’Almightys hill.
Welcome the rodd, that does adoption shew,
The Cup, whose wholsome dreggs are giv’n me here,
There is a day behinde, if God be true,
When all these Clouds shall pass, and heaven be clear,
When those whome most they shade, shall shine most glorious there.
Affliction is the Line, which ev’ry Saint
Is measur’d by, his Stature taken right,
So much it shrinks, as they repine or faint,
But if theire faith, and Courage stand upright,
By that is made the Crown, and the full Robe of light