With A Smile That Glow'd

God Doth Not Need Either Man's Work Or His Own Gifts. Who Best Bear His Mild Yoke, They Serve Him Best. His State Is Kingly: Thousands At His Bidding Speed, And Post O'er Land And Ocean Without Rest; They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait.

New Presbyter Is But Old Priest Writ Large.

Rather Than Be Less Car'd Not To Be At All.

Now I See Peace To Corrupt No Less Than War To Waste.

What Call Thou Solitude? Is Not The Earth With Various Living Creatures, And The Air Replenished, And All These At Thy Command To Come And Play Before Thee?