Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, makes that and the action fine.
Church bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood, The land of spices; something understood.
No profit to honour, no honour to Religion.
Saint Luke was a Saint and a Physitian, yet is dead.
Man is one world, and hath / Another to attend him.
It's a wicked thing to make a dearth ones garner.