Indu'd With Sanctity Of Reason.

Money Brings Honor, Friends, Conquest, And Realms.

What Neat Repast Shall Feast Us, Light And Choice, Of Attic Taste?

He That Can Apprehend And Consider Vice With All Her Baits And Seeming Pleasures, And Yet Abstain, And Yet Distinguish, And Yet Prefer That Which Is Truly Better, He Is The True Wayfaring Christian. I Cannot Praise A Fugitive And Cloistered Virtue, Unexercised And Unbreathed, That Never Sallies Out And Sees Her Adversary, But Slinks Out Of The Race, Where That Immortal Garland Is To Be Run For, Not Without Dust And Heat. Assuredly We Bring Not Innocence Into The World, We Bring Impurity Much Rather: That Which Purifies Us Is Trial, And Trial Is By What Is Contrary.

The Gay Motes That People The Sunbeams.

As In An Organ From One Blast Of Wind To Many A Row Of Pipes The Soundboard Breathes.