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

Innumerable as the stars of night, Or stars of morning, dewdrops which the sun Impearls on every leaf and every flower.

He left it in thy power, ordaind thy will By nature free, not over-rul'd by Fate Inextricable, or strict necessity.

God is thy law, thou mine.

More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues.

With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.

Herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.