Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring With such consort as they keep, Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
Accuse not nature: she hath done her part; Do thou but thine.
And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons.
Farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear
The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.