 | Piety, and Poesy |  |
On the holy Ghost descending like a Dove.
When John (unwilling 'cause unworthy) leadChrist into Jordan, ore his glorious head
Hovers a Dove, whose bright wings would not cease
Till they were spread over the Prince of peace;
Well may our Turtles grieve their sad estates,
When Doves from Heaven come to seek their Mates.
| Piety, and Poesy | |