To Catharine Seyton
So thou wouldst tempt me, pretty neophyte,
Me, bred in those learned halls whose sons erst broke,
With arm polemic, Rome’s usurpe yoke,
Thought all unfit to wage – with eyes so bright
And smiles so sweet – the controversial fight;
Me, whom no few as Methodist assail,
Me thou wouldst tempt to quit the happy pale
Of England’s Church, to pope and priest my right
Of thought resigning. Cherish, gentle friend,
The new-found light, if light it be, and tread
Thy clouded path to heaven: and let me wend
My way, with difficulty sore bested,
Nor needing more incumbrances, alone,
Free from thy Church’s fetters, and thy own!
So thou wouldst tempt me, pretty neophyte,
Me, bred in those learned halls whose sons erst broke,
With arm polemic, Rome’s usurpe yoke,
Thought all unfit to wage – with eyes so bright
And smiles so sweet – the controversial fight;
Me, whom no few as Methodist assail,
Me thou wouldst tempt to quit the happy pale
Of England’s Church, to pope and priest my right
Of thought resigning. Cherish, gentle friend,
The new-found light, if light it be, and tread
Thy clouded path to heaven: and let me wend
My way, with difficulty sore bested,
Nor needing more incumbrances, alone,
Free from thy Church’s fetters, and thy own!