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"I am contented by remembrances Dreams of dead passions, wraiths of vanished times, Fragments of vows, and by-ends of old rhymes Flotsam and jetsam tumbling in the seas Whereon, long since, put forth our argosies Which, bent on traffic in the Isles of Love, Lie foundered somewhere in some firth thereof, Encradled by eternal silences."
Beginne from first, where He encradled was In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay, Betweene the toylfull oxe and humble asse, And in what rags, and in how base array, The glory of our heavenly riches lay, When Him the silly shepheards came to see, Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee.
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