Sweetest Echo, Sweetest Nymph, That

Heaven Is As The Book Of God Before Thee Set, Wherein To Read His Wondrous Works.

(that Last Infirmity Of Noble Mind) To Scorn Delights, And Live Laborious Days; But The Fair Guerdon When We Hope To Find, And Think To Burst Out Into Sudden Blaze, Comes The Blind Fury With Th' Abhorred Shears And Slits The Thin-spun Life.

The Gay Motes That People The Sunbeams.

Eloquence The Soul, Song Charms The Senses.

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East.