It must, but stoops with dignity; and thinks

And meditates, the while, of inward worth.

Pollok.

Come to my aid, celestial Wisdom, come;

From my dark soul dispel the doubtful gloom;

My passions still, my purer breast inflame,

To sing that God from whom existence came.

Boyse.

See! full of hope, thou trustest to the earth

The golden seed, and waitest till the Spring