Assuredly We Bring Not Innocence

Extol Not Riches Then, The Toil Of Fools, The Wise Man's Cumbrance, If Not Snare, More Apt To Slacken Virtue, And Abate Her Edge, Than Prompt Her To Do Aught May Merit Praise.

Give Me The Liberty To Know, To Utter, And To Argue Freely According To Conscience, Above All Liberties.

The Tree Of Knowledge Grew Fast By, Knowledge Of Good Bought Dear By Knowing Ill.

This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light.

So Dear I Love Him, That With Him, All Deaths I Could Endure, Without Him, Live No Life.