Herbs, And Other Country Messes, Which The

O Conscience, Into What Abyss Of Fears And Horrors Hast Thou Driven Me, Out Of Which I Find No Way, From Deep To Deeper Plunged.

Those Graceful Acts, Those Thousand Decencies, That Daily Flow From All Her Words And Actions, Mixed With Love And Sweet Compliance, Which Declare Unfeigned Union Of Mind, Or In Us Both One Soul.

Anon Out Of The Earth A Fabric Huge Rose, Like An Exhalation.

Son Of Heav'n And Earth, Attend: That Thou Art Happy, Owe To God; That Thou Continuest Such, Owe To Thyself, That Is, To Thy Obedience; Therein Stand.

The Great Creator From His Work Returned Magnificent, His Six Days' Work, A World.