Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out.

From his lips/Not words alone pleased her.

Fear of change perplexes monarchs.

Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where with her best nurse Contemplation She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day; But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the midday sun.

Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks and rivers wide Towers and battlements it sees Bosom'd high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighboring eyes.

The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

Courage never to submit of yield.