For neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible, except to God alone.

Hail, wedded love, mysterious law; true source of human happiness.

Dark with excessive bright.

Lifted up so high I disdained subjection, and thought one step higher would set me highest.

Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.

And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.

Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void.