Allot to each her office; ceaseless guard
Still let them bold around this earth-born heart,
And watch, with closest glance, its languid pulse.
John Hey.
Virtue’s no virtue whiles it lives secure;
When difficulty waits on ’t, then ’t is pure.
John Quarles.
Yet sometimes nations will decline so low
From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong
But justice, and some fatal course annexed,