Some fact he hath foretold,
Making my gospel but his prophecy.
My New his little Old.
To him that opens his hands upwards to me like a thirsty plant
I am Rain,
But to him that merely stands as a patron by to see me perform
I am Zero and a Drought.
Then three tall lilies floated white along
To these woods: we come from Nature,
Ambassadors, for thou gavest us consideration,