Two Songs

The man of life vpright,
    Whose guiltlesse hart is free
From all dishonest deedes,
    Or thought of vanitie,

The man whose silent dayes,
    In harmeles ioys are spent,
Whom hopes cannot delude,
    Nor sorrow discontent ;

That man needs neither towers
    Nor armour for defence,
Nor secret vautes to flie
    From thunders violence.

Hee onely can behold
    With vnafrighted eyes
The horrours of the deepe
    And terrours of the Skies.

 ... 

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st
In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st
Thou may'st call thine when thou from youth convertest.
 ...