So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap.

Reason also is choice.

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

With eyes Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd. Imparadised in one another's arms. With thee conversing I forget all time. And feel that I am happier than I know.

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

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.

Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.