O Soul, Be Changed Into Little Waterdrops,

It Is A Comfort To The Miserable To Have Comrades In Misfortune, But It Is A Poor Comfort After All.

Time Doth Run With Calm And Silent Foot, Shortening My Days And Thread Of Vital Life.

O Soul, Be Changed Into Little Waterdrops, / And Fall Into The Ocean, Ne'er Be Found!

... When All The World Dissolves, And Every Creature Shall Be Purified, All Places Shall Be Hell That Are Not Heaven.

The Griefs Of Private Men Are Soon Allayed, But Not Of Kings.