Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule.

Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head

Betwixt the stirrup and the ground / Mercy I asked, mercy I found.

The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed- It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.

Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God, My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee.

Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so; Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.