One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.

God made sun and moon to distinguish the seasons, and day and night; and we cannot have the fruits of the earth but in their seasons. But God hath made no decrees to distinguish the seasons of His mercies. In Paradise the fruits were ripe the first minute, and in heaven it is always autumn. His mercies are ever in their maturity.

Doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is.

In heaven it is always autumn.

Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.

The Phoenix riddle hath more wit By us, we two being one, are it. So to one neutral thing both sexes fit, We die and rise the same, and prove Mysterious by this love.