The Pilot Of The Galilean Lake; Two

To Be Weak Is Miserable, Doing Or Suffering.

Which, If Not Victory, Is Yet Revenge.

O Fairest Flower! No Sooner Blown But Blasted, Soft Silken Primrose Fading Timelessly.

Straight Mine Eye Hath Caught New Pleasures Whilst The Landscape Round It Measures, Russet Lawns And Fallows Grey, Where The Nibbling Flocks Do Stray, Mountains On Whose Barren Breast The Labouring Clouds Do Often Rest; Meadows Trim With Daisies Pied, Shallow Brooks, And Rivers Wide.

Virtue Hath No Tongue To Check Vice's Pride.