Virtue Hath No Tongue To Check Vice's

Rather Than Be Less Car'd Not To Be At All.

Who, As They Sung, Would Take The Prison'd Soul And Lap It In Elysium.

Heaven Open'd Wide Her Ever During Gates, Harmonious Sound, On Golden Hinges Moving.

So Little Knows Any, But God Alone, But Perverts Best Things To Worst Abuse, Or To Their Meanest Use.

Calm Of Mind, All Passion Spent.