XIII.
An Answer to the Parson.
Why of the sheep do you not learn peace?
Because I don't want you to shear my fleece.
XIV.
Epitaph.
Here lies John Trot, the friend of all mankind;
He has not left one enemy behind.
Friends were quite hard to find, old authors say;
But now they stand in everybody's way.
XV.
Grown old in love from seven till seven times seven,
I oft have wished for hell, for ease from heaven.
XVI.
Prayers plough not, praises reap not,
Joys laugh not, sorrows weep not.
XVII.
The Sword sang on the barren heath.
The Sickle in the fruitful field;
The Sword he sang a song of death
But could not make the Sickle yield.
XVIII.
O Lapwing, thou fliest across the heath.
Nor seest the net that is spread beneath:
Why dost thou not fly among the corn-fields?
They cannot spread nets where a harvest yields.
XIX.
The Angel that presided o'er my birth
Said: "Little creature, formed of joy and mirth,
Go, love without the help of anything on earth."
