SINCE, Lord, to thee
     A narrow way and little gate
Is all the passage, on my infancy
     Thou didst lay hold, and antedate
          My faith in me.

          O let me still
     Write thee great God, and me a child
Let me be soft and supple to thy will,
     Small to myself, to others mild,
          Behither ill.

          Although by stealth
     My flesh get on; yet let her sister
My soul bid nothing, but preserve her wealth:
     The growth of flesh is but a blister;
          Childhood is health.

by George Herbert 1593-1633
source: The Poetical Works Of George Herbert, ed. George Gilfillan. Edinburgh: James Nichol, 1853

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