Unattributed Author

I think Nature hath lost the mould
Where she her shape did take;
Or else I doubt read more

I think Nature hath lost the mould
Where she her shape did take;
Or else I doubt if Nature could
So fair a creature make.

As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having read more

As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having met, drift once again apart,
So, fleeting is the intercourse of men.
E'en as a traveler meeting with the shade
Of some o'erhung tree, awhile reposes,
Then leaves its shelter to pursue his ways,
So men meet friends, then part with them for ever.

Our life's a flying shadow, God's the pole,
The index pointing at Him is our soul;
Death read more

Our life's a flying shadow, God's the pole,
The index pointing at Him is our soul;
Death the horizon, when our sun is set,
Which will through Christ a resurrection get.

Despotism tempered by assassination, that is our Magna Carta.
[Fr., Le despotisme tempere par l'assassinat, c'est notre magna
read more

Despotism tempered by assassination, that is our Magna Carta.
[Fr., Le despotisme tempere par l'assassinat, c'est notre magna
charta.]

Your fame shall (spite of proverbs) make it plain
To write in water's not to write in vain.

Your fame shall (spite of proverbs) make it plain
To write in water's not to write in vain.