Those Saints, Which God Loves Best, The

When Words We Want, Love Teacheth To Indite; And What We Blush To Speak, She Bids Us Write.

Who With A Little Cannot Be Content, Endures An Everlasting Punishment.

Bid Me To Love, And I Will Give A Loving Heart To Thee.

Seldom Comes Glory Till A Man Be Dead.

In Sober Mornings Do Not Thou Rehearse The Holy Incantation Of A Verse