Evil On Itself Shall Back Recoil.

If It Come To Prohibiting, There Is Aught More Likely To Be Prohibited Than Truth Itself.

What Better Can We Do Than Prostrate Fall Before Him Reverent, And There Confess Humbly Our Faults, And Pardon Beg With Tears Watering The Ground?

Peace Hath Her Victories, No Less Renowned Than War.

The Starry Cope Of Heaven.

Eye Me, Blest Providence, And Square My Trial To My Proportion'd Strength.