Among thy Children, at thy Holy-board:

Nor have I, there, been fill'd with Bread alone;

But, on the blessed Bodie of thy Sonne,

My Soule hath feasted. And, if thou dost grant

Such favours, Lord! what can I feare to want?

For, doubtlesse, if thy Sonne thou please to give,

All other things, with him, I shall receive.


All Flesh, is like the wither'd Hay,
And, so it springs, and fades away.