O God, I Could Be Bound In

The Band That Seems To Tie Their Friendship Together Will Be The Very Strangler Of Their Amity.

Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It Disjoins Remorse From Power.

The Brightness Of Her Cheek Would Shame Those Stars As Daylight Doth A Lamp; Her Eyes In Heaven Would Through The Airy Region Stream So Bright That Birds Would Sing, And Think It Were Not Night.

Full Of Wise Saws And Modern Instances.

We Suffer A Lot The Few Things We Lack And We Enjoy Too Little The Many Things We Have.