If We Had No Winter, The Spring

Flesh Of My Flesh, Bone Of My Bone, I Here, Though There, Yet Both But One.

The Spring Is A Lively Emblem Of The Resurrection.

To Sing Of Wars, Of Captains, And Of Kings/of Cities Founded, Common-wealths Begun/for My Mean Pen Are Too Superior Things.

Some Laborers Have Hard Hands, And Old Sinners Have Brawny Consciences.

That When We Live No More, We May Live Ever