There Is A Mixture Of Evil In

Hast Thou Not Learnd What Thou Art Often Told, A Truth Still Sacred, And Believed Of Old, That No Success Attends On Spears And Swords Unblest, And That The Battle Is The Lords?

There Is No Flesh In Man's Obdurate Heart; He Does Not Feel For Man.

Not To Understand A Treasure's Worth Till Time Has Stole Away The Slighted Good, Is Cause Of Half The Poverty We Feel, And Makes The World The Wilderness It Is.

A Life All Turbulence And Noise May Seem To Him That Leads It Wise And To Be Praised, But Wisdom Is A Pearl With Most Success Sought In Still Waters.

O, Popular Applause! What Heart Of Man Is Proof Against Thy Sweet, Seducing Charms?