Long had our  in Virtue trod,
But now the Child half-wean'd his Heart from God;
(Child of his Age) for him he liv'd in Pain,
And measur'd back his Steps to Earth again.
To what Excesses had his Dotage run?
But God, to save the Father, took the Son.
To all but thee, in Fits he seem'd to go,
(And 'twas my Ministry to deal the Blow)
The poor fond Parent humbled in the Dust,
Now owns in Tears the Punishment was just.