To the Reverend Father in God, John, Lord Bishop of Rochester
In you the Sacred sweets of Gods blest Word
O settled comfort truly doth afford;
Having its sweetnes from the God of grace,
Never that from repentance turns his face.
By the breath then which doth proceed from you,
O you do seem to blew an honey dew:
With comfort lightning from sinnes miseries,
Like as the honey Touathan in's eyes
Entire inlightned with true joyes supply.
O settled comfort truly doth afford;
Having its sweetnes from the God of grace,
Never that from repentance turns his face.
By the breath then which doth proceed from you,
O you do seem to blew an honey dew:
With comfort lightning from sinnes miseries,
Like as the honey Touathan in's eyes
Entire inlightned with true joyes supply.
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