Our Holy Lives Must Win

I Can Easier Teach Twenty What Were Good To Be Done, Than Be One Of The Twenty To Follow Mine Own Teaching.

We Make Guilty Of Our Disasters The Sun, The Moon, And The Stars; As If We Were Villians By Compulsion.

O Good Old Man, How Well In Thee Appears The Constant Service Of The Antique World, When Service Sweat For Duty, Not For Meed! Thou Art Not For The Fashion Of These Times, Where None Will Sweat But For Promotion, And Having That Do Choke Their Service Up Even With The Having. . . .

Praise Us As We Are Tasted, Allow Us As We Prove.

They Whose Guilt Within Their Bosom Lies, Imagine Every Eye Beholds Their Blame.