8

  Lest your keenest grief to wake,
    Like mine your suffering prattler say,
  ’Go, bid my Father come and take
    ‘These frightful Spots and Sores away.’

9

Quickly from such fears be free: 
Oh! there is Danger in Delay! 
Say not to-morrow it shall be:  ... 
To-morrow! no; to-day, to-day.

10

Embrace the Blessing Heaven hath sent;
So shall you ne’er such pangs endure: 
Oh! give a Trifle to prevent,
What you would give a World to cure.