The spirits of the air live on the smells Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.

I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.

A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage.

I am under the direction of messengers from Heaven daily and nightly.

Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.

Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there.

The child's toys and the old man's reasons are the fruits of two seasons.