Evil, be thou my good.
Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.
None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license.
Here the great art lies, to discern in what the law is to be to restraint and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to work.