When Words We Want, Love

Oft Have I Heard Both Youths And Virgins Say, Birds Chuse Their Mates And Couple Too This Day: But By Their Flight I Never Can Devine When I Shall Couple With My Valentine.

Lord, 'tis Thy Plenty-dropping Hand That Soils My Land, And Giv'st Me For My Bushel Sowne Twice Ten For One. All This, And Better, Thou Dost Send Me, To This End, That I Should Render, For My Part, A Thankful Heart.

Hell Is No Other But A Soundlesse Pit, Where No One Beame Of Comfort Peeps In It.

In The Hour Of My Distress, When Temptations Me Oppress, And When I My Sins Confess, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me.

Show Me Thy Feet, Show Me Thy Legs, Thy Thighs Show Me Those Fleshy Principalities; Show Me That Hill Where Smiling Love Doth Sit, Having A Living Fountain Under It; Show Me Thy Waist, Then Let Me There Withal, By The Ascension Of Thy Lawn, See All.