My Dancing Days Are Past.

Thou Art Figured Blind, And Yet We Borrow Our Best Sight From Thee.

The Soul Is Strong That Trusts In Goodness.

One Grain Of Incense With Devotion Offer'd 's Beyond All Perfumes Of Sabaean Spices.

Oh That Thou Hadst Like Others Been All Words, And No Performance.

Petitions, Not Sweetened With Gold, Are But Unsavory And Oft Refused; Or, If Received, Are Pocketed, Not Read.