If Thy Daughter Marry Well, Thou Hast

Thy Ignorance In Unrevealed Mysteries Is The Mother Of A Saving Faith, And Thy Understanding In Revealed Truths Is The Mother Of A Sacred Knowledge; Understand Not Therefore That Thou Mayest Believe, But Believe That Thou Mayest Understand; Understanding Is The Wages Of A Lively Faith And Faith Is The Reward Of An Humble Ignorance.

My Soul, What's Lighter Than A Feather? Wind. Than Wind? The Fire. And What Than Fire? The Mind. What's Lighter Than The Mind? A Thought. Than Thought? This Bubble World. What Than This Bubble? Nought.

Pleasures Bring Effeminacy, And Effeminacy Foreruns Ruin; Such Conquests, Without Blood Or Sweat, Sufficiently Do Revenge Themselves Upon Their Intemperate Conquerors.

Mercy Turns Her Back To The Unmerciful.

Yet, Sluggard, Wake, And Gull Thy Soul No More With Earth's False Pleasures, And The World's Delight, Whose Fruit Is Fair And Pleasing To The Sight, But Sour In Taste, False As The Putrid Core: Thy Flaring Glass Is Gems At Her Half Light; She Makes Thee Seeming Rich, But Truly Poor: She Boasts A Kernel, And Bestows A Shell; Performs An Inch Of Her Fair-promis'd Ell: Her Words Protest A Heav'n; Her Works Produce A Hell.