I Beseech You, Wrest Once The Law

Well, God Give Them Wisdom That Have It; And Those That Are Fools, Let Them Use Their Talents.

But Most It Is Presumption In Us When The Help Of Heaven We Count The Act Of Men.

Grim-visaged War Hath Smoothed His Wrinkled Front; And Now, Instead Of Mounting Barbed Steeds To Fright The Souls Of Fearful Adversaries, He Capers Nimbly In A Lady's Chamber To The Lascivious Pleasing Of A Lute.

What Can Be Happier Than For A Man, Conscious Of Virtuous Acts, And Content With Liberty, To Despise All Human Affairs?

Winter's Not Gone Yet, If The Wild Geese Fly That Way.