Our sense, our wit, our reason and our thought;
Where persons three, with power and glory crown'd,
Are all one God, who made all things of naught.
Under whose feet, subjected to his grace
Sit nature, fortune, motion, time and place.

This is the place from whence like smoke and dust
Of this frail world, the wealth, the pomp, the power,
He tosseth, humbleth, turneth as he lust,
And guides our life, our end, our death and hour,
No eye (however virtuous, pure and just)
Can view the brightness of that glorious bower,
On every side the blessed spirits be
Equal in joys though differing in degree.
E. FAIRFAX.

* * * * *


MARRIAGE.


In choice of wife prefer the modest chaste,
Lilies are fair in show, but foul in smell,
The sweetest looks by age are soon defaced,
Then choose thy wife by wit and loving well.
Who brings thee wealth, and many faults withal,
Presents thee honey mix'd with bitter gall.
D. LODGE.