The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/Paradise
For works with similar titles, see Paradise.
§ Paradise.
I Bless thee, Lord, because I GROWAmong thy trees, which in a ROWTo thee both fruit and order OW.
What open force, or hidden CHARMCan blast my fruit, or bring me HARM,While the inclosure is thine ARM.
Inclose me still for fear I start. Be to me rather sharp and tart, Then let me want thy hand & art.
When thou dost greater judgments spare, And with thy knife but prune and pare, Ev'n fruitfull trees more fruitful are.
Such sharpnes shows the sweetest frend: Such cuttings rather heal then rend: And such beginnings touch their end.