But for thee, thy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to good,
Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the way:
That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the hatefulness of evil,
But set on high for life and light, the loveliness of good.
The hard censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomist
Tracking up the fibres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse:
But the charitable soul is a young lover, enamoured little wisely,
That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less;
So, in his kind and genial light, she grew more worthy of his love;
Won to good by gentle suns, and not by frowning tempest.