The beginning of this contemplation may be felt in this life, but the fullhead of it is kept until the bliss of heaven.

But, silent be my rash censurings; be hush'd, ye stormy tumults of my disturb'd mind […]

I find it is the one I most value here in the household and seldomest get.

[…] the doors were gold Which shut the palace fast; silver the posts Rear’d on a brazen threshold, and above, The lintels, silver, architraved with gold.