So Every Bondman In His Own Hand

Roses Have Thorns, And Silver Fountains Mud; Clouds And Eclipses Stain Both Moon And Sun, And Loathsome Canker Lies In Sweetest Bud. All Men Make Faults.

By Heaven, My Soul Is Purg'd From Grudging Hate; And With My Hand I Seal My True Heart's Love

See First That The Design Is Wise And Just: That Ascertained, Pursue It Resolutely; Do Not For One Repulse Forego The Purpose That You Resolved To Effect.

You Are Strangely Troublesome.

Strikes Deeper, Grows With More Pernicious Root.