Lord, with what care hast thou begirt us round! Parents first season us: then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws; they send us bound To rules of reason, holy messengers, Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin, Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes, Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in, Bibles laid open, millions of suprises, Blessings beforehand, ties of gratefulness, The sound of glory ringing in our ears: Without, our shame; within, our consciences; Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears. Yet all these fences and their whole array One cunning bosom-sin blows quite away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 2 by THOMAS CAMPION THE CAGED GOLDFINCH by THOMAS HARDY WARREN'S ADDRESS [TO THE AMERICANS] [AT BUNKER HILL] [JUNE 17, 1775] by JOHN PIERPONT AMORETTI: 64 by EDMUND SPENSER MAGDALEN by GEORGE KENYON ASHENDON |