In Shame There Is No Comfort But

In The Truly Great, Virtue Governs With The Sceptre Of Knowledge.

Blasphemous Words Betray The Vain Foolishness Of The Speaker.

But Words Came Halting Forth, Wanting Invention's Stay; Invention, Nature's Child, Fled Stepdame Study's Blows; And Others' Feet Still Seemed But Strangers In My Way. Thus, Great With Child To Speak, And Helpless In My Throes, Biting My Truant Pen, Beating Myself For Spite: "fool," Said My Muse To Me, "look In Thy Heart, And Write.

Truth Is The Ground Of Science, The Centre Wherein All Things Repose, And Is The Type Of Eternity.

It Is Hard, But It Is Excellent, To Find The Right Knowledge Of When Correction Is Necessary And When Grace Doth Most Avail.