Lords Are Lordliest In Their Wine.

And Add To These Retired Leisure, That In Trim Gardens Take His Pleasure.

Thou O Spirit, That Dost Prefer Before All Temples Th' Upright Heart And Pure, Instruct Me, For Thou Know'st; Thou From The First Wast Present, And With Mighty Wings Outspread Dove-like Satst Brooding On The Vast Abyss And Mad'st It Pregnant: What Is In Me Dark Illumine, What Is Low Raise And Support; That To The Heighth Of This Great Argument I May Assert Eternal Providence, And Justify The Ways Of God To Men.

A Crown Golden In Show, Is But A Wreath Of Thorns, Bring Dangers, Troubles, Cares, And Sleepless Nights To Him Who Wears The Regal Diadem

Where More Is Meant Than Meets The Ear.

And Feel That I Am Happier Than I Know.