And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced choir below, In service high, and anthems clear As may, with sweetness, through mine ear Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes.

Midnight shout and revelry, Tipsy dance and jollity.

But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.

Farewell happy fields, Where joy forever dwells: Hail, horrors, hail.

This manner of writing wherein knowing myself inferior to myself? I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand.

It was the winter wild, While the Heaven-born child, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.

Lifted up so high I disdained subjection, and thought one step higher would set me highest.