Good Heav'n, I thank thee, since it was design'd <br />I shou'd be fram'd, but of the weaker kinde, <br />That yet, my Soul, is rescu'd from the Love <br />Of all those Trifles, which their Passions move. <br />Pleasures, and Praise, and Plenty haue with me <br />But their just value. If allow'd they be, <br />Freely, and thankfully as much I tast, <br />As will not reason, or Religion wast. <br />If they're deny'd, I on my selfe can Liue, <br />And slight those aids, unequal chance does give. <br />When in the Sun, my wings can be display'd, <br />And in retirement, I can bless the shade.<br /><br />Anne Kingsmill Finch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-myselfe/
