Excerpt from A Booklet of Verse Ere yet we have done with play. But sweet it is To know what breast shall pillow us in sleep When tired at last. See, see Life's God is nigh, Thy Son Of laughter and heroic toils, Him we acknowledge in thy holy stead, Not holier, but dearer unto us, And dear to thee, thy very Son, thy self, TO whom thou gavest us, to be his own 0 thou wilt punish not who hold by him, Loyally his, not thine; with fervent soul Worshiping him, crying the jubilant cry Before his coming, dumb at thy approach For thou art he About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.