That Power Which Erring Men

A Good Principle Not Rightly Understood May Prove As Hurtful As A Bad.

Lethe, The River Of Oblivion, Rolls His Watery Labyrinth, Which Whoso Drinks Forgets Both Joy And Grief.

Never Can True Reconcilement Grow Where Wounds Of Deadly Hate Have Pierced So Deep.

What Honour That, But Tedious Waste Of Time, To Sit And Hear So Many Hollow Compliments And Lies.

Thou Canst Not Touch The Freedom Of My Mind.