No date prefixed directs me in the starry rubric set.

All seemed well pleased, all seemed, but were not all.

So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream and solemn vision Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.

Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is.

Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric, That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.

Only this I know, That one celestial father gives to all.

Solitude is sometimes the best society.