Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.
He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts; But double griefs afflict concealing harts, As raging flames who striveth to supresse.
Then came October, full of merry glee.
But times do change and move continually.
Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?