"If thou'lt be rul'd, to th' gods thy fortunes trust, Their thoughts are wise, their dispensations just. What best may profit or delight they know, And real good, for fancied bliss, bestow; With eyes of pity, they our frailties scan, More dear to them, than to himself, is man;"
Lugar: Chapter XII. Apology For Raimond Sebond. · ¶2740 Licença: Public domain · Fonte O texto é dado como na edição, sem alterações.