Heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowly wise. Think only what concerns thee and thy being; Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition, or degree, Contented that thus far hath been revealed.

Take heed lest passion sway Thy judgement to do aught, which else free will Would not admit.

Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.

Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north - wind's breath, And stars to set; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!

But see! theVirgin blessed Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious song should here have ending.

Implied Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd,- Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.

Dark with excessive bright.