A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses

Accuse not nature: she hath done her part; Do thou but thine.

And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens take his pleasure.

O shame to men! Devil with devil damned Firm concord holds, men only disagree Of creatures rational, though under hope Of heavenly grace: and God proclaiming peace, Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, Wasting the earth, each other to destroy: As if (which might induce us to accord) Man had not hellish foes enough besides, That day and night for his destruction wait.

Socrates... Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd Wisest of men.

God shall be all in all.

Among unequals what society Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?