Heaven

O Who will show me those delights on high?

		Echo:	I.

Thou Echo, thou art mortall, all men know.

		Echo:	No.

Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves?

		Echo:	Leaves.

And are there any leaves, that still abide?

		Echo:	Bide.

What leaves are they? impart the matter wholly.

		Echo:	Holy.

Are holy leaves the Echo then of blisse?

		Echo:	Yes.

Then tell me, what is that supreme delight?

		Echo:	Light.

Light to the minde: what shall the will enjoy?

		Echo:	Joy.

But are there cares and businesse with the pleasure?

		Echo:	Leisure.

Light, joy, and leisure; but shall they persever?

		Echo:	Ever.