Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
And keeps the palace of the soul.
All things but one you can restore; the heart you get returns no more.
For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is, that they sing, and that they love. While I listen to thy Voice.
How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.