Uncertain ways unsafest are, and doubt a greater mischief than despair.
Such is our pride, our folly, or our fate, That few, but such as cannot write, translate.
You prove but too clearly that seeking to know Is too frequently learning to doubt.
Tis the most certain sign, the world's accurst That the best things corrupted, are the worst; 'Twas the corrupted Light of knowledge, hurl'd Sin, Death, and Ignorance o'er all the world; That Sun like this (from which our sight we have) Gaz'd on too long, resumes the light he gave.
Books should to one of these fours ends conduce, for wisdom, piety, delight, or use.
But whither am I strayed? I need not raise Trophies to thee from other men's dispraise; Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built; Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign, Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.