Here Am I, Dying Of A Hundred

Still Follow Sense, Of Ev'ry Art The Soul, Parts Answering Parts Shall Slide Into A Whole.

Of Darkness Visible So Much Be Lent, As Half To Show, Half Veil, The Deep Intent.

Two Women Seldom Grow Intimate But At The Expense Of A Third Person; They Make Friendships As Kings Of Old Made Leagues, Who Sacrificed Some Poor Animal Betwixt Them, And Commenced Strict Allies; So The Ladies, After They Have Pulled Some Character To Pieces, Are From Henceforth Inviolable Friends.

I Find Myself Hoping A Total End Of All The Unhappy Divisions Of Mankind By Party-spirit, Which At Best Is But The Madness Of Many For The Gain Of A Few.

Yes, I Am Proud; I Must Be Proud To See Men Not Afraid Of God, Afraid Of Me.