For Those Whom God To Ruin Has

For Every Inch That Is Not Fool, Is Rogue.

What Precious Drops Are Those, Which Silently Each Other's Track Pursue, Bright As Young Diamonds In Their Faint Dew?

Set All Things In Their Own Peculiar Place, And Know That Order Is The Greatest Grace.

For They Can Conquer Who Believe They Can.

From Plots And Treasons Heaven Preserve My Years, But Save Me Most From My Petitioners. Unsatiate As The Barren Womb Or Grave; God Cannot Grant So Much As They Can Crave.