The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

What Though The Sea Be Calm? Trust To The Shore, Ships Have Been Drown'd, Where Late They Danc'd Before.

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

The May-pole Is Up, Now Give Me The Cup; I'll Drink To The Garlands Around It; But First Unto Those Whose Hands Did Compose The Glory Of Flowers That Crown'd It.

Praise They That Will Times Past, I Joy To See My Selfe Now Live: This Age Best Pleaseth Mee.

Some Asked Me Where The Rubies Grew, And Nothing I Did Say; But With My Finger Pointed To The Lips Of Julia.