Tyranny Is Yielding To The Lust Of

O Woman, Perfect Woman! What Distraction Was Meant To Mankind When Thou Wast Made A Devil!

Our Acts Our Angels Are, For Good Or Ill, Our Fatal Shadows That Walk By Us Still.

'tis Virtue, And Not Birth That Makes Us Noble: Great Actions Speak Great Minds, And Such Should Govern.

We Must Not Be Content To Be Cleansed From Sin; We Must Be Filled With The Spirit.

That Soul That Can Be Honest Is The Only Perfect Man.