204 TO A BOSS. 



And what the Spring to me, 



Prophetic, may appear, 

 Is heaven, O man, to thee, 



An ever blooming year : 

 Where thou shalt Angels see, 



And their sweet harpings hear \ 

 If thou God's servant be, 



And keep his counsel dear." 



O preacher of the mead, 



Thy sermon is divine ; 

 And doth from God proceed, 



Who cause thee thus to shine ; 

 O Rose, in crimson weed: 



And may I make it mine ; 

 And thus be learn'd indeed, 



When sun and stars decline 1 



