He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.

Let them obey that knows not how to rule.

Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.

And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.

Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.

Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.