Indu'd With Sanctity Of Reason.

Capricious, Wanton, Bold, And Brutal Lust Is Meanly Selfish; When Resisted, Cruel; And, Like The Blast Of Pestilential Winds, Taints The Sweet Bloom Of Nature's Fairest Forms.

United Thoughts And Counsels, Equal Hope And Hazard In The Glorious Enterprise.

And Now The Herald Lark Left His Ground-nest, High Tow'ring To Descry The Morn's Approach, And Greet Her With His Song.

Then Might Ye See Cowls, Hoods, And Habits With Their Wearers Tost And Flutter'd Into Rags; Then Reliques, Beads, Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls, The Sport Of Winds; All These Upwhirl'd Aloft Fly To The Rearward Of The World Far Off Into A Limbo Large And Broad, Since Called The Paradise Of Fools.

The Liberty Of Conscience, Which Above All Other Things Ought To Be To All Men Dearest And Most Precious.