None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license.
A grateful mind/ By owing owes not, but still pays, at once/ Indebted and discharg'd.
O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.
Ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault, be condemned, If guiltless?
Arms on armour clashing bray'd Horrible discord, and the madding wheels Of brazen chariots rag'd: dire was the noise Of conflict.
Truth is compared in Scripture to a streaming fountain; if her waters flow not in perpetual progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition.