Let wits contest,
And with their words and posies windows fill:
Lesse than the least
Of all thy mercies, is my posie still.
This on my ring,
This by my picture, in my book I write;
Whether I sing,
Or say, or dictate, this is my delight.
Invention rest;
Comparisons go play; wit use thy will:
Lesse than the least
Of all God's mercies, is my posie still.
