He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life, So that no wonder waits him.
Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!
Critics are already made.
Be hypocritical, be cautious, be not what you seem but always what you see.
Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister
Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.