I'll Ne'er Distrust My God

If Virtue Accompany It, It Is The Heart's Paradise; If Vice Associate It, It Is The Soul's Purgatory.

Pleasures Bring Effeminacy, And Effeminacy Foreruns Ruin; Such Conquests, Without Blood Or Sweat, Sufficiently Do Revenge Themselves Upon Their Intemperate Conquerors.

We Sack, We Ransack To The Utmost Sands Of Native Kingdoms, And Of Foreign Lands: We Travel Sea And Soil; We Pry, And Prowl, We Progress, And We Prog From Pole To Pole.

How Is The Anxious Soul Of Man Befool'd In His Desire, That Thinks An Hectic Fever May Be Cool'd In Flames Of Fire?

Be Not Too Slow In The Breaking Of A Sinful Custom; A Quick, Courageous Resolution Is Better Than A Gradual Deliberation; In Such A Combat He Is The Bravest Soldier That Lays About Him Without Fear Or Wit. Wit Pleads, Fear Disheartens; He That Would Kill Hydra Had Better Strike Off One Neck Than Five Heads: Fell The Tree, And The Branches Are Soon Cut Off.