In Ways To Greatness Think On This,

Bid Me Despair, And I'll Despair,under That Cypress Tree;or Bid Me Die, And I Will Daree'en Death, To Die For Thee.

Things Are Evermore Sincere; / Candor Here, And Lustre There / Delighting.

Give, If Thou Can, An Alms; If Not, A Sweet And Gentle Word.

When The Artless Doctor Sees No One Hope, But Of His Fees, And His Skill Runs On The Lees; Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me! When His Potion And His Pill, Has, Or None, Or Little Skill, Meet For Nothing, But To Kill; Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me!

In Vain Our Labours Are, Whatsoe'er They Be, Unless God Gives The Benediction.