Till Old Experience Do Attain To Something

Seasoned Life Of Man Preserved And Stored Up In Books.

I See Thou Art Implacable, More Deaf To Pray'rs Than Winds And Seas. Yet Winds To Seas Are Reconcil'd At Length, And Sea To Shore: Thy Anger, Unappeasable, Still Rages Eternal Tempest Never To Be Calm'd.

Goodness Thinks No Ill Where No Ill Seems.

To Be Blind Is Not Miserable; Not To Be Able To Bear Blindness, That Is Miserable.

License They Mean When They Cry Liberty; For Who Loves That, Must First Be Wise And Good.