An Ode, Or Psalm To God.

Dear God, If Thy smart rod Here did not make me sorry, I should not be With Thine or Thee In Thy eternal glory. But since Thou didst convince My sins by gently striking; Add still to those First stripes new blows, According to Thy liking. Fear me, Or scourging tear me; That thus from vices driven, I may from hell Fly up to dwell With Thee and Thine in heaven.