BEAUTY clear and fair,       Where the air Rather like a perfume dwells;   Where the violet and the rose   Their blue veins and blush disclose, And come to honour nothing else:

      Where to live near       And planted there Is to live, and still live new;   Where to gain a favour is   More than light, perpetual bliss— Make me live by serving you!

Dear, again back recall       To this light, A stranger to himself and all!   Both the wonder and the story   Shall be yours, and eke the glory; I am your servant, and your thrall.