’Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried,
Hosanna! while the old ones did deride.
Bunyan.
At his first aptness the maternal love
Those rudiments of wisdom did improve;
The tender age was pliant to command;
Like wax it yielded to the forming hand:
True to the artificer, the laboured mind
With ease was pious, generous, just, and kind;
Soft for impression, from the first prepared,