Shame Is Pride's Cloak.

But Most Thro' Midnight Streets I Hear How The Youthful Harlots Curse Blasts The New-born Infants Tear And Blights With Plagues The Marriage Hearse

England! Awake! Awake! Awake! Jerusalem Thy Sister Calls! Why Wilt Thou Sleep The Sleep Of Death And Close Her From Thy Ancient Walls?

In Your Own Bosom You Bear Your Heaven And Earth, And All You Behold, Though It Appears Without, It Is Within, In Your Imagination, Of Which This World Of Mortality Is But A Shadow.

Mercy, Pity, And Peace, Are The World's Release.

When I Tell The Truth, It Is Not For The Sake Of Convincing Those Who Do Not Know It, But For The Sake Of Defending Those That Do.