These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!

Ornate rhetorick taught out of the rule of Plato.... To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as being less suttle and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and passionate.

That power Which erring men call Chance.

Thou art my father, thou my author, thou my being gav'st me; whom should I obey but thee, whom follow?

My latest found, Heaven's last, best gift, my ever new delight!

Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, sober steadfast, and demure, all in a robe of darkest grain, flowing with majestic train.

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.