Though I’m now in younger days,

Nor can tell what shall befall me,

I’ll prepare for every place

Where my growing age shall call me.

Should I e’er be rich or great,

Others shall partake my goodness:

I’ll supply the poor with meat,

Never showing scorn or rudeness.

Where I see the blind or lame,

Deaf or dumb, I’ll kindly treat them:

I deserve to feel the same,

I I mock, or hurt, or cheat them.

If I meet with railing tongues,

Why should I return them railing,

Since I best revenge my wrongs

By my patience never failing?

When I hear them telling lies,

Talking foolish, cursing, swearing,

First I’ll try to make them wise,

Or I’ll soon go out of hearing.

What though I be low or mean,

I’ll engage the rich to love me,

While I’m modest, neat, and clean,

And submit when they reprove me.

If I should be poor and sick,

I shall meet, I hope, with pity;

Since I love to help the weak,

Though they’re neither fair nor witty.

I’ll not willingly offend,

Nor be easily offended:

What’s amiss I’ll strive to mend,

And endure what can’t be mended.

May I be so watchful still

O’er my humours and my passion,

As to speak and do no ill,

Though it should be all the fashion.

Wicked fashions lead to hell;

Ne’er may I be found complying;

But in life behave so well,

Not to be afraid of dying.