Locked up from mortal eye in shady leaves of destiny.
Two went to pray? Better to say one went to brag, the other to pray.
And when life's sweet fable ends, soul and body part like friends; no quarrels, murmurs, no delay; a kiss, a sigh, and so away.
A pillow for thee will I bring,Stuffed with down of angel's wing.
Hark! She is called, the parting hour is come. Take thy farewell, poor world! Heaven must go home. . . .
Nights, sweet as they, Made short by lovers play, Yet long by the absence of the day.