Let Argument Bear No Unmusical Sound.

All Discourses But My Own Afflict Me; They Seem Harsh, Impertinent, And Irksome

Where Dost Thou Careless Lie, Buried In Ease And Sloth? Knowledge That Sleeps, Doth Die; And This Security, It Is The Common Moth, That Eats On Wits And Arts, And Oft Destroys Them Both.

Follow A Shadow, It Still Flies You, Seem To Fly, It Will Pursue: So Court A Mistress, She Denies You; Let Her Alone, She Will Court You. Say Are Not Women Truly, Then, Styled But The Shadows Of Us Men?

It Is Virtue That Gives Glory; That Will Endenizen A Man Everywhere.

God Wisheth None Should Wreck On A Strange Shelf: To Him Man's Dearer Than To Himself.