O Thou, The Drink Of Gods And

In The Hour Of My Distress, When Temptations Me Oppress, And When I My Sins Confess, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me.

Love Is A Circle That Doth Restless Move In The Same Sweet Eternity Of Love.

Feed Him Ye Must, Whose Food Fills You. And That This Pleasure Is Like Raine, Not Sent Ye For To Drowne Your Paine, But For To Make It Spring Againe.

O Thou, The Drink Of Gods And Angels! Wine

Go To Your Banquet Then, But Use Delight So As To Rise Still With An Appetite.