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by William Bradford


FROM my years young in days of youth

God did make known to me his truth

And call'd me from my native place

For to enjoy the means of grace.

In wilderness he did me guide

And in strange lands for me provide.

In fears and wantsthrough weal and woe

A pilgrimpassed I to and fro:

Oft left of them whom I did trust;

How vain it is to rest on dust!

A man of sorrows I have been

And many changes I have seen.

Warswantspeaceplentyhave I known;

And some advanc'dothers thrown down.

The humble poorcheerful and glad;

Richdiscontentsower and sad:

When fears and sorrows have been mixt

Consolations came betwixt.

Faint notpoor soulin God still trust

Fear not the things thou suffer must;

Forwhom he loves he doth chastise

And then all tears wipes from their eyes.

Farewelldear childrenwhom I love

Your better Father is above:

When I am gonehe can supply;

To him I leave you when I die.

Fear him in truthwalk in his ways

And he will bless you all your days.

My days are spentold age is come

My strength it failsmy glass near run.

Now I will waitwhen work is done

Until my happy change shall come

When from my labors I shall rest

With Christ above for to be blest.

The End