Affliction teacheth a wicked person sometime to pray; prosperity never.
Force works on servile natures, not the free.
For whose sake, henceforth, all his vows be such, As what he loves may never like too much.
In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures, life may perfect be.
Minds that are great and free, should not on fortune pause: 'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause.
The day For whose returns, and many, all these pray; And so do I.