Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage, And thus I'll take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body's balmer, No other balm will there be given, Whilst my soul, like a quiet palmer, Travelleth towards the land of heaven, Over the...Learn More

Go, Soul, the body's guest, Upon a thankless arrant! Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant: Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. Say to the court it glows And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church it shows What's good, and doth no good: If court and church reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell...Learn More

Even such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days: But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust....Learn More