If my dear father were but heaven’s child,
And I trusting youth dwelt in innocence
It might be jester’s bastard reconciled,
Or love’s revealed layer’s newfound grievance.
Was it not Fortune that divulged mine fate?
Perhaps purpose found a path to wits end
And within burden’s heart doth palpitate
Whereto all youth, in time, life doth amend.
If fear that heretic of life doth roar
Like a lion in slumber’s depths waken,
Let courage question what love hath in store,
And mercy join all that time hath taken.
To this let ancestors bear witness hence;
I have found me in thee tis providence.