Where There Is Plenty, Charity Is A

Negligence Is The Rust Of The Soul That Corrodes Through All Her Best Resolves.

Praise Has Different Effects, According To The Mind It Meets With; It Makes A Wise Man Modest, But A Fool More Arrogant, Turning His Weak Brain Giddy.

When I But Hear Her Sing, I Fare Like One That Raised, Holds His Ear To Some Bright Star In The Supremest Round; Through Which, Besides The Light That's Seen There May Be Heard, From Heaven Within, The Rests Of Anthems, That The Angels Sound.

Virtue Were A Kind Of Misery If Fame Were All The Garland That Crowned Her.

All Men Will Be Peters In Their Bragging Tongue, And Most Men Will Be Peters In Their Base Denial; But Few Men Will Be Peters In Their Quick Repentance.