Behold now this vast city [London]; a city of refuge, the mansion-house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with His protection.
Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is.
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine.
The timely dew of sleep.
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.
Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.