But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away; Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.

I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill

Mercy, pity, and peace, Are the world's release.

Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.

I myself do nothing. The Holy Spirit accomplishes all through me.

Sooner strangle an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.

Active Evil is better than Passive Good.