Have Hung My Dank And Dropping Weeds

So Dear To Heaven Is Saintly Chastity, That, When A Soul Is Found Sincerely So, A Thousand Liveried Angels Lacky Her, Driving Far Off Each Thing Of Sin And Guilt.

Vain Wisdom All, And False Philosophy.

To Be Blind Is Not Miserable; Not To Be Able To Bear Blindness, That Is Miserable.

So May'st Thou Live, Till Like Ripe Fruit Thou Drop Into Thy Mother's Lap.

O Conscience, Into What Abyss Of Fears And Horrors Hast Thou Driven Me, Out Of Which I Find No Way, From Deep To Deeper Plunged.