Herbert talks to God with the memory of infant baptism. The path to life is narrow, but he isn’t anxious—God seized him in infancy and planted faith before he could ask for it. That ‘antedated’ grace is his anchor. Now he prays to stay a child: soft and supple to God’s will, small in his own eyes, mild to others, guarded from evil. He knows his body will sneakily mature, but he begs that his soul keep its original innocence. Any growth of the flesh he dismisses as a blister—a temporary swelling that stings and vanishes. Real health is childhood’s spirit. The mood is hushed and tender, intimate as a whispered secret. There’s a quiet fierceness in his longing to remain unhardened by adult desires, trusting entirely in a grace that already made him whole.
H. Baptism II — Summary
Since, Lord, to thee A narrow way and little gate Is all the passage, on my infancy Thou didst lay hold, and antedate My faith in me.
O let me still Write thee great God, and me a child: Let me be soft and supple to thy will, Small to my self, to others mild, Behither ill.
Although by stealth My flesh get on, yet let her sister My soul bid nothing, but preserve her wealth: The growth of flesh is but a blister; Childhood is health.