Virtue that wavers is not virtue.

That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.

Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.

Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.

Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.

Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss.

And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse