But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.
For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is, that they sing, and that they love. While I listen to thy Voice.
If its length be not considered a merit, it hath no other.