And looks commercing with the skies,

Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.

Il Penseroso. Line 39.

Forget thyself to marble.

Il Penseroso. Line 42.

And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet,

Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.

Il Penseroso. Line 45.

And add to these retired Leisure,

That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.