Th' adorning thee with so much art
Is but a barb'rous skill; 'Tis like the poisoning of a dart,
Too apt before to kill.
The Motto.
What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?
On the Death of Crashaw.
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right.
The Garden. Essay V.
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.