Or war to execution, with loud drums;
Though she on hills sets not her gibbets high,
Where frightful law sets hers; nor bloody seems,
Like war in colours spread, yet secretly
She does her work, and many men condemns;
Chokes in the seed what law, till ripe, ne’er sees;
What law would punish, Conscience can prevent;
And so the world from many mischiefs frees;
Known by her cures, as law by punishment.
Sir William Davenant.