Gather Ye Rosebuds, While Ye

Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A Flying: And This Same Flower That Smiles To Day, Tomorrow Will Be Dying.

Humble We Must Be, If To Heaven We Go; High Is The Roof There, But The Gate Is Low.

O Thou, The Drink Of Gods And Angels! Wine

Tis Hard To Find God, But To Comprehend Him, As He Is, Is Labour Without End.

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.