By the Earl of Westmorland.
Blest Privacie, Happy Retreat, wherein
I may cast up my Reck'nings, Audit Sin,
Count o'r my Debts, and how Arrears increase
In Natures book, towards the God of Peace:
What through perversness hath been wav'd, or don
To My first Covenants contradiction:
How many promis'd Resolutions broke
Of keeping touch (almost as soon as spoke.)
Thus like that Tenant who behind-hand cast,
Intreats so oft forbearance, till at last
The sum surmounts his hopes, and then no more
Expects, but Mercy to strike off the score.
So here, methinks, I see the Landlords Grace
Full of Compassion to my drooping Case,
Bidding me be of comfort, and not griev'd,
My Rent his Son should pay if I believ'd.
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