But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.

And keeps the palace of the soul.

Circle are praised, not that abound, In largeness, but the exactly round.

Gods, that never change their state, vary oft their love and hate.

If its length be not considered a merit, it hath no other.

Virtue's a stronger guard than brass.

Others may use the ocean as their road; Only the English make it their abode.