“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

“Hands full of hearty labours: pains that pay

And prize themselves—do much that more they may.

No cruel guard of diligent cares, that keep

Crowned woes awake, as things too wise for sleep:

But reverend discipline, religious fear,

And soft obedience, find sweet biding here.

Silence, and sacred rest, peace and pure joys—

Kind loves keep house, lie close, and make no noise.

And room enough for monarchs, while none swells

Beyond the limits of contentful cells.

The self-remembering soul sweetly recovers

Her kindred with the stars: not basely bovers

Below—but meditates th' immortal way

Home to the source of light and intellectual day.”