Then bless thy secret growth, nor catch At noise, but thrive unseen and dumb; Keep clean, be as fruit, earn life, and watch Till the white-wing’d rea… - Henry Vaughan

And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep.

Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move.

Tempests and windes and winter-nights Vex not, that but One sees thee grow, That One made all these lesser lights. If those bright joys He singly sheds On thee, were all met in one crown, Both sun and stars would hide their heads ; And moons, though full, would get them down.