So, of a lone unhaunted place possess’d

I sing the progress of a deathless soul.

Nature’s great masterpiece, an elephant, The only harmless great thing.

Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; For, thus friends absent speak.

And seeing the snail, which everywhere doth roam, Carrying his own house still, still is at home, Follow (for he is easy paced) this snail, Be thine own palace, or the world’s thy gaol.

Great Destiny, the commissary of God.

Friends are ourselves.