My Soul, The Seas Are Rough, And

The Goods We Spend We Keep; And What We Save We Lose; And Only What We Lose We Have.

If Opinion Hath Lighted The Lamp Of Thy Name, Endeavor To Encourage It With Thy Own Oil, Lest It Go Out And Stink; The Chronical Disease Of Popularity Is Shame; If Thou Be Once Up, Beware; From Fame To Infamy Is A Beaten Road.

So Use Prosperity, That Adversity May Not Abuse Thee: If In The One, Security Admits No Fears, In The Other, Despair Will Afford No Hopes; He That In Prosperity Can Foretell A Danger Can In Adversity Foresee Deliverance.

Lust Is An Immoderate Wantonness Of The Flesh, A Sweet Poison, A Cruel Pestilence; A Pernicious Poison, Which Weakeneth The Body Of Man, And Effeminateth The Strength Of The Heroic Mind.

Knowledge Descries; Wisdom Applies.