My Love To Thee Is Sound, Sans

Tremble, Thou Wretch, That Hast Within Thee Undivulged Crimes Unwhipped Of Justice.

This Is Some Fellow, Who Having Been Prais'd For Bluntness, Doth Affect A Saucy Roughness And Constrains The Garb Quite From His Nature: He Can't Flatter, He! An Honest Mind And Plain,--he Must Speak Truth! And They Will Take It So; If Not He's Plain. These Kind Of Knaves I Know, Which In This Plainness Harbor More Craft, And Far Corrupter Ends, Than Twenty Silly, Ducking Observants, That Stretch Their Duty Nicely.

Why, What Is Pomp, Rule, Reign, But Earth And Dust? And, Live We How We Can, Yet Die We Must.

Assume A Virtue If You Have It Not.

God Shall Be My Hope, My Stay, My Guide And Lantern To My Feet.