Ah, Why Should All Mankind For One

Enjoy Your Dear Wit And Gay Rhetoric, That Hath So Well Been Taught Her Dazzling Fence.

God Is Thy Law, Thou Mine.

Till Old Experience Do Attain To Something Like Prophetic Strain.

Virtue Hath No Tongue To Check Vice's Pride.

By This Time, Like One Who Had Set Out On His Way By Night, And Travelled Through A Region Of Smooth Or Idle Dreams, Our History Now Arrives On The Confines, Where Daylight And Truth Meet Us With A Clear Dawn, Representing To Our View, Though At A Far Distance, True Colours And Shapes.