How Near To Good Is What Is

The Man That Is Once Hated, Both His Good And His Evil Deeds Oppress Him.

Many Might Go To Heaven With Half The Labour They Go To Hell, If They Would Venture Their Industry The Right Way.

I Feel My Griefs Too, And There Scarce Is Ground Upon My Flesh T'inflict Another Wound. Yet Dare I Not Complain, Or Wish For Death With Holy Paul; Lest It Be Thought The Breath Of Discontent; Or That These Prayers Be For Weariness Of Life, Not Love Of Thee.

You Are Not Now To Think What's Best To Do, As In Beginnings, But What Must Be Done, Being Thus Enter'd; And Slip No Advantage That May Secure You. Let Them Call It Mischief; When It Is Past, And Prosper'd , 'twill Be Virtue.

Sweet Swan Of Avon! What A Sight It Were To See Thee In Our Water Yet Appear.