Wickedness Is Weakness.

His Rod Revers'd, And Backward Mutters Of Dissevering Power.

Here The Great Art Lies, To Discern In What The Law Is To Be To Restraint And Punishment, And In What Things Persuasion Only Is To Work.

Now Came Still Evening On; And Twilight Gray Had In Her Sober Livery All Things Clad: Silence Accompanied; For Beast And Bird, They To They Grassy Couch, These To Their Nests, Were Slunk, All But The Wakeful Nightingale.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.

The Power Of Kings And Magistrates Is Nothing Else, But What Is Only Derivative, Transferrd And Committed To Them In Trust From The People, To The Common Good Of Them All, In Whom The Power Yet Remaines Fundamentally, And Cannot Be Takn From Them, Without A Violation Of Thir Natural Birthright.