Tis Hard To Find God, But To

It Is An Active Flame That Fliesfirst To The Babies In The Eyes.

In Prayer The Lips Ne'er Act The Winning Part, Without The Sweet Concurrence Of The Heart.

Rise And Put On Your Foliage, And Be Seen To Come Forth, Like The Springtime, Fresh And Green

Necessity Makes Dastards Valiant Men.

Let My Muse Fail Of Thy Former Helps, And Only Use Her Inadulterate Strength. What's Done By Me Hereafter Shall Smell Of The Lamp, Not Thee.