Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.

And diff'ring judgments serve but to declare that truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.

Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head

My soul is sick with every day's report of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; And we are weeds without it.

But slaves that once conceive the glowing thought Of freedom, in that hope itself possess All that the contest calls for; spirit, strength, The scorn of danger, and united hearts, The surest presage of the good they seek.

England, with all thy faults I love thee still, My country!