I Say There Is No

Our Enemies Are Our Outward Consciences.

Happy Are They That Hear Their Detractions, And Can Put Them To Mending.

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

Had I But Died An Hour Before This Chance, I Had Liv'd A Blessed Time; For, From This Instant, There's Nothing Serious In Mortality: All Is But Toys; Renown, And Grace Is Dead; The Wine Of Life Is Drawn, And The Mere Lees Is Left This Vault To Brag Of.

Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds