O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul that, struggling to be free, art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart with strings of steel, be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!

Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one

Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.

So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.

Hang those that talk of fear.

If your mind dislike anything obey it

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!