For Who So Firm That Cannot Be

The Will Is Infinite And The Execution Confin'd, The Desire Is Boundless And The Act A Slave To Limit.

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

Why, Thou Owest God A Death.

I Could A Tale Unfold Whose Lightest Word Would Harrow Up Thy Soul, Freeze Thy Young Blood, Make Thy Two Eyes Like Stars Start From Their Spheres, Thy Knotted And Combined Locks To Part, And Each Particular Hair To Stand On End Like Quills Upon The Fretful Porpentine. But This Eternal Blazon Must Not Be To Ears Of Flesh And Blood. List, List, O List!

A Great Perturbation In Nature, To Receive At Once The Benefit Of Sleep And Do The Effects Of Watching!