Sweet Intercourse Of Looks And Smiles; For

And Storied Windows Richly Dight, Casting A Dim Religious Light.

Now Conscience Wakes Despair That Slumber'd,-wakes The Bitter Memory Of What He Was, What Is, And What Must Be Worse.

And, Re-assembling Our Afflicted Powers, Consult How We May Henceforth Most Offend.

Grace Was In All Her Steps, Heaven In Her Eye, In Every Gesture Dignity And Love.

What Neat Repast Shall Feast Us, Light And Choice, Of Attic Taste?