Such Antics Do Not Amount To A

Our Holy Lives Must Win A New World's Crown.

Give Me A Bowl Of Wine, In This I Bury All Unkindness.

'tis Brief, My Lord...as Woman's Love.

Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth Of Anger Constant Spirit, Not Swerving With The Blood, Garnish'd And Deck'd In Modest Compliment, Not Working With The Eye Without The Ear, And But In Purged Judgement Trusting Neither? Such And So Finely Bolted Didst Thou Seem.

So Holy Writ In Babes Hath Judgment Shown When Judges Have Been Babes; Great Floods Have Flown From Simple Sources, And Great Seas Have Dried When Miracles Have By The Greatest Been Denied.