With How Much Ease Believe We What

Seas Are The Fields Of Combat For The Winds; But When They Sweep Along Some Flowery Coast, Their Wings Move Mildly, And Their Rage Is Lost.

Men's Virtues I Have Commended As Freely As I Have Taxed Their Crimes.

What Passion Cannot Music Raise And Quell!

But Dying Is A Pleasure / When Living Is A Pain.

A Good Conscience Is A Port Which Is Landlocked On Every Side, Where No Winds Can Possibly Invade. There A Man May Not Only See His Own Image, But That Of His Maker, Clearly Reflected From The Undisturbed Waters.