Farewell Happy Fields, Where Joy Forever Dwells:

On The Morning Of Christ's Nativity Perhaps Their Loves, Or Else Their Sheep, Was All That Did Their Silly Thoughts So Busy Keep.

What Can 'scape The Eye Of God, All-seeing, Or Deceive His Heart. Omniscient!

O Sun, To Tell Thee How I Hate Thy Beams That Bring To My Remembrance From What State I Fell, How Glorious Once Above Thy Sphere.

And Grace That Won Who Saw To Wish Her Stay.

Fame, If Not Double Fac'd, Is Double Mouth'd, And With Contrary Blast Proclaims Most Deeds; On Both His Wings, One Black, The Other White, Bears Greatest Names In His Wild Aery Flight.