How Very Hard It Is To Be

Thought Is The Soul Of Act.

All We Have Gained Then By Our Unbelief Is A Life Of Doubt Diversified By Faith, For One Of Faith Diversified By Doubt: We Called The Chess-board White-we Call It Black.

Though Rome's Gross Yoke Drops Off, No More To Be Endured, Her Teaching Is Not So Obscured By Errors And Perversities, That No Truth Shines Athwart The Lies.

Brightest Truth, Purest Trust In The Universe, All Were For Me, In The Kiss Of One Girl.

The Lie Was Dead And Damned, And Truth Stood Up Instead.