Whilst My Physicians By Their Love Are

God Employs Several Translators; Some Pieces Are Translated By Age, Some By Sickness, Some By War, Some By Justice.

But He Who Loveliness Within Hath Found, All Outward Loathes, For He Who Color Loves, And Skin, Loves But Their Oldest Clothes.

Our Faults Are Not Seen, But Past Us; Neither Felt, But Only In The Punishment.

I Have Done One Braver Thing Than All The Worthies Did, And Yet A Braver Thence Doth Spring, Which Is, To Keep That Hid.

Thy Face Is Mine Eye, And Mine Is Thine.