My soul, sit thou a patient looker-on; Judge not the play before the play is done: Her plot hath many changes; every day Speaks a new scene; the last act crowns the play.

He that loves thee, He that keeps And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps.

Thou art my life, my way, my light

Even such is man, whose glory lends His life a blaze or two, and ends.