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

A minute's success pays the failure of years.

Still ailing, Wind? Wilt be appeased or no?

Reads verse and thinks she understands.

Four great walls in the New Jerusalem, / Meted on each side by the angel's reed, / For Leonard, Rafael, Agnolo and me / To cover.

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