38 BAXTER'S POEMS. Titles rteflect on minds. These must be low. By humble love all must thy servants know. Yet I deny not but a perfect mind, May more advantage here than danger find : · Thy soil is oft manured by such dung. I '11 honour give to whom it doth belong : It may be safe to others; but to me 'Twas best from such temptations to be free : Let my preferment lie in serving all : Whilst I sit low, I have not far to fall . .Keep me from the temptation of the devil! For so thou dost deliver us from evil. My youthful pride and folly now I see, That grudged for ·want of titles and deg.~;ee ; That blush'dwith shame when this defectwas known, And an inglorious name could hardly own, Attempting to have hid it twice or thrice, With vile equivocations next to lies. And to thy methods was unreconciled, Because I was not Rabbi, doctor, stiled. Forgive this pride; and break .the serpent's brain; Pluck up the poisonous root, till none remain. Gjve me the wisdom ; I '11 not beg the fame : Grant me the thing; let others take the name. Give me the learning, and it is no harm, If thou shalt place me in the lowest form. Honours are shadows, which from seekers fly; But follow after those who them deny. I brought none with me to thy work; but there I found more than I easily could bear ~
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