God affords no man the comfort, the false comfort of Atheism: He will not allow a pretending Atheist the power to flatter himself, so far, as to seriously think there is no God.

To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent; to a competent I must answer.

Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were

At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.

Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.

Great sorrows cannot speak.

I am a little world made cunningly.