T Is The Will That Makes The

That Age Is Best Which Is The First When Youth And Blood Are Warmer.

When The Tempter Me Pursueth With The Sins Of All My Youth, And Half Damns Me With Untruth, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me!

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

Rise And Put On Your Foliage, And Be Seen To Come Forth, Like The Springtime, Fresh And Green

None Pities Him That Is In The Snare, Who Warned Before, Would Not Beware.