A Little Saint Best Fits

My Soul I'll Pour Into Thee.

Her Eyes The Glowworm Lend Thee, The Shooting Stars Attend Thee; And The Elves Also, Whose Little Eyes Glow Like The Sparks Of Fire, Befriend Thee.

The Readiness Of Doing Doth Expresse No Other But The Doer's Willingnesse.

Men Are Suspicious; Prone To Discontent: Subjects Still Loathe The Present Government.

Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A Flying: And This Same Flower That Smiles To Day, Tomorrow Will Be Dying.