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Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut than shown;
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Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut than shown;
For vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind,
Blows dust in others' eye, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear
To stop the air would hurt them.
Men wish to be saved from the mischiefs of their vices, but not from their vices.
Men wish to be saved from the mischiefs of their vices, but not from their vices.
Vice knows she's ugly, so puts on her mask
Vice knows she's ugly, so puts on her mask
The vices we scoff at in others, laugh at us within ourselves.
The vices we scoff at in others, laugh at us within ourselves.
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we read more
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame.
We do not despise all those who have vices, but we despise all
those who have not a single read more
We do not despise all those who have vices, but we despise all
those who have not a single virtue.
The willing contemplation of vice is vice.
The willing contemplation of vice is vice.
Every vice is only an exaggeration of a necessary and virtuous function.
Every vice is only an exaggeration of a necessary and virtuous function.
Ne'er blush'd, unless, in spreading vice's snares,
She blunder'd on some virtue unawares.
Ne'er blush'd, unless, in spreading vice's snares,
She blunder'd on some virtue unawares.