Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed, As God be thanked! I do not

For thence - a paradox Which comforts while it mocks, - Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me: A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale

All service ranks the same with God: With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we; there is no last nor first

Progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beasts': God is, they are, Man partly is and wholly hopes to be

God is the perfect poet, / Who in his person acts his own creations.

God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.