Conscience, That Boon Companion Who Sets A

Three Sparks - Pride, Envy, And Avarice - Have Been Kindled In All Hearts.

Stand Firm As The Tower That Never Shakes Its Top Whatever Wind May Blow.

I Found Myself Within A Forest Dark, For The Straightfoward Pathway Had Been Lost. Ah Me! How Hard A Thing Is To Say, What Was This Forest Savage, Rough, And Stern, Which In The Very Thought Renews The Fear. So Bitter Is It, Death Is Little More.

I Affirm That Gain Is Precisely That Which Comes Oftener To The Bad Man Than To The Good; For Illegitimate Gains Never Come To The Good At All, Because They Reject Them. And Lawful Gains Rarely Come To The Good, Because, Since Much Anxious Care Is Needful Thereto, And The Anxious Care Of The Good Man Is Directed To Weightier Matters, Rarely Does The Good Man Give Sufficient Attention Thereto. Wherefore It Is Clear That In Every Way The Advent Of These Riches Is Iniquitous.

At Grief So Deep The Tongue Must Wag In Vain; The Language Of Our Sense And Memory Lacks The Vocabulary Of Such Pain.