Ode Occationed upon my sonn Veres sicknes

What ever Gods Divine
Decree
Awardeth unto mine
Or me
Though't may seem ill:
With Patience
I am resolvd to undergoe
Nor to His purpose once say noe
But moderate both minde and will
And Conquering th'Rebellions of sence
Place all Content in True Obedience.

Thus I Create it Good
When His
Correction's understood
Which is
Not to destroy
But to reclayme
And t'cause me turne a new-leafe ore
Count all an Error-writ-before:
Soe find the sting of flattering Joy
Making the Scoape of all my future ayme
To Reverence and Glorify his Name
Thus when our God will frowne if we waigh it
In Judgments Skoales we make't a Benefit.