I Will Go Wash; And When My

Who Is Here So Vile That Will Not Love His Country?

O Love, Be Moderate, Allay Thy Ecstasy, In Measure Rain Thy Joy, Scant This Excess!

Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here.

If To Do Were As Easy As To Know What Were Good To Do, Chapels Had Been Churches, And Poor Men’s Cottages Princes’ Palaces. It Is A Good Divine That Follows His Own Instructions: I Can Easier Teach Twenty What Were Good To Be Done, Than Be One Of The Twenty To Follow Mine Own Teaching.

Canst Thou Not Minister To A Mind Diseased, Pluck From The Memory A Rooted Sorrow, Raze Out The Written Troubles Of The Brain