Glory Is Like A Circle In The

Dumb Jewels Often, In Their Silent Kind, More Than Quick Words, Do Move A Woman's Mind.

Eternity Was In Our Lips And Eyes, Bliss In Our Brows' Bent; None Our Parts So Poor But Was A Race Of Heaven.

Now, God Be Praised, That To Believing Souls Gives Light In Darkness, Comfort In Despair.

He Is Winding The Watch Of His Wit; By And By It Will Strike.

Good Friend For Jesus Sake Forbeare, To Digg The Dust Encloased Heare! Blest Be The Man That Spares Thes Stones, And Curst Be He That Moves My Bones.