None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license.
Him that yon soars on golden wing, guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne, the Cherub Contemplation.
Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose, like an exhalation.
In contemplation of created things, by steps we may ascend to God.
Death ready stands to interpose his dart.
Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy.