[…] For unto them only are his heavenly verities known, to whom he withsaveth to open them.

Six or eight thousand years ago / They laid down the law / In Mesopotamia

That triangle of tangled undergrowth was infested with clothes-grabbing burdocks (“buzzies” we called them) and beggar's ticks.

Yet, trust me, Memory's warmest sighs / Are often breathed in moments lorn— / And many a feeling thought will rise / And in the bosom die unborn.