Here I myself might likewise die, And utterly forgotten lie, But that eternal poetry Repullulation gives me here Unto the thirtieth thousand year, When all now dead shall reappear.
First offer incense; then, thy field and meads Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. The spangling dew dredged o'er the grass shall be Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee....
First offer incense, then thy field and meads Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. The spangling dew, dredg'd o'er the grass, shall be Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee....
A prayer that is said alone Starves, having no companion. Great things ask for when thou dost pray, And those great are which ne'er decay. Pray not for silver, rust eats this;...