From my nets have I flung the bad away, to my small skill and caution;
Yet may some slimy snake have counted for an eel.
The rudder of Man's best hope cannot always steer himself from error;
The arrow of Man's straightest aim flieth short of truth.
Thus, the confession of sincerity visit not as if it were presumption:
Nor own me for a leader, where thy reason is not guide.
OF CHEERFULNESS.
