’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,