Yet leave me not; yet, if thou wilt, be free; love me no more, but love my love of thee.

Let weakness learn meekness.

Sorrow, on wing through the world for ever, Here and there for awhile would borrow Rest, if rest might haply deliver Sorrow.

Yet leave me not; yet, if thou wilt, be free; love me no more, but love my love of thee.

I dore not always touch her, lest the kiss Leave my lips charred. Yea, Lord, a little bliss, Brief, bitter bliss, one hath for a great sin; Nathless thou knowest how sweet a thing it is.

Is not Precedent indeed a King of men? A Word from the Psalmist.

The delight that consumes the desire, The desire that outruns the delight.