Though I’m now in younger days,
Nor can tell what shall befall me,
I’ll prepare for every place
Where my growing age shall call me.
Should I e’er be rich or great,
Others shall partake my goodness:
I’ll supply the poor with meat,
Never showing scorn or rudeness.
Where I see the blind or lame,
Deaf or dumb, I’ll kindly treat them:
I deserve to feel the same,
If I mock, or hurt, or cheat them.
If I meet with railing tongues,
Why should I return them railing,
Since I best revenge my wrongs
By my patience never failing?
When I hear them telling lies,
Talking foolish, cursing, swearing,
First I’ll try to make them wise,
Or I’ll soon go out of hearing.
What though I be low or mean,
I’ll engage the rich to love me,
While I’m modest, neat, and clean,
And submit when they reprove me.
If I should be poor and sick,
I shall meet, I hope, with pity;
Since I love to help the weak,
Though they’re neither fair nor witty.
I’ll not willingly offend,
Nor be easily offended:
What’s amiss I’ll strive to mend,
And endure what can’t be mended.
May I be so watchful still
O’er my humours and my passion,
As to speak and do no ill,
Though it should be all the fashion.
Wicked fashions lead to hell;
Ne’er may I be found complying;
But in life behave so well,
Not to be afraid of dying.