Oh, Shame To Men! Devil With Devil

That Space The Evil One Abstracted Stood From His Own Evil, And For The Time Remained Stupidly Good, Of Enmity Disarmed, Of Guile, Of Hate, Of Envy, Of Revenge .

Tis Chastity, My Brother, Chastity; She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel, And, Like A Quiver'd Nymph With Arrows Keen, May Trace Huge Forests, And Unharbour'd Heaths, Infamous Hills, And Sandy Perilous Wilds; Where, Through The Sacred Rays Of Chastity, No Savage Fierce, Bandite, Or Mountaineer, Will Dare To Soil Her Virgin Purity.

For Books Are Not Absolutely Dead Things, But Do Contain A Potency Of Life In Them To Be As Active As That Soul Was Whose Progeny They Are; Nay, They Do Preserve As In A Vial The Purest Efficacy And Extraction Of That Living Intellect That Bred Them.

Sufficient To Have Stood, Though Free To Fall.

He Who Reigns Within Himself And Rules Passions, Desires, And Fears Is More Than A King.