Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men.
The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false.
Though Rome's gross yoke Drops off, no more to be endured, Her teaching is not so obscured By errors and perversities, That no truth shines athwart the lies.
Generations pass while some tree stands, and old families last not three oaks.
This could but have happened once,- And we missed it, lost it forever.
Say not "a small event!" Why "small"? Costs it more pain that this ye call A "great event" should come to pass From that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed!