A Meditation

O Who would think it such a Task to find A vigilant and truly stable Mind! Low center'd down in that eternal Light, Which, with its Brightness, drives away the Night Of gross Egyptian Darkness, that it may, Like pleasant Phospher, usher in the Day. Alas, what Heart can rightly comprehend, The Soul-amazing Conflicts that attend All that begin to travel towards Zion, How they're opposed by the roaring Lion, That goes about, still seeking to destroy, And hinder from true everlasting Joy. Ah, none but those that walk the narrow Way, Can see the Snares laid to entice astray, And draw aside from that protecting Pow'r, Which only can preserve them in the Hour Of great Temptation. Ah, thrice happy they That know the Sheepfold, where they safely may Lie down secure, and need not be afraid Of any Beast of Prey, that would invade The couching Lambs, whose Shepherd never sleeps, But, as an Army, them securely keeps: Here may they Pasture sweetly, safely, bless'd; But from this Fold there is no place of Rest.