Goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems.

Heaven open'd wide Her ever during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges moving.

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.

With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.

There is no Christian duty that is not to be seasoned and set off with cheerishness, which in a thousand outward and intermitting crosses may yet be done well, as in this vale of tears.

Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.

The power of Kings and Magistrates is nothing else, but what is only derivative, transferrd and committed to them in trust from the People, to the Common good of them all, in whom the power yet remaines fundamentally, and cannot be takn from them, without a violation of thir natural birthright.