A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be.

Here Will Be An Old Abusing Of God's Patience And The King's English.

If Little Faults Proceeding On Distemper Shall Not Be Winked At, How Shall We Stretch Our Eye When Capital Crimes, Chewed, Swallowed, And Digested, Appear Before Us?

Can It Be Chat Modesty May More Betray Our Sense Than Woman's Lightness?

...and Then, In Dreaming, / The Clouds Methought Would Open And Show Riches / Ready To Drop Upon Me, That When I Waked / I Cried To Dream Again.

I Have Touched The Highest Point Of All My Greatness.