Page:The Pilgrim's Progress, the Holy War, Grace Abounding Chunk1.djvu/181

Rh When thou hast told the world of all these things,

Then turn ahent, my Beak, and touch these strings;

Which, if but touched, will such music make,

They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake.

Those riddles that lie couched within thy breast,

Freely propound, expound; and for the rest

Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain

For those Whose nimble fancies shall them gain.

Now may this a blessing be

To those that love this and me:

And may its buyer have no cause to say,

His money is but lost or thrown away.

Yea, may this yield that fruit

As may with each geod Pilgrim's fancy suit;

And may it persuade some that go astray,

To turn their feet and heart to the right way,

Is the hearty prayer of

The Author,

JOHN BUNYAN