High as the Heavens above!
These are your walks, and you have showed them me,
To kindle my cold love.
Dear, beauteous Death! the Jewel of the Just!
Shining nowhere but in the dark;
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,
Could man outlook that mark!
He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know
At first sight if the bird be flown;
But what fair Well, or Grove he sings in now,