Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall;
Some run from breaks of ice, and answer none:
And some condemned for a fault alone.
O, fie, fie, fie!
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade.
O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Few love to hear the sins they love to act.
Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands
Showing an outward pity; yet you Klates
Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
They say sin touches not a man so near
As shame a woman; yet he too should be
Part of the penance, being more deep than she
Set in the sin.
To abstain from sin when a man cannot sin to be forsaken by sin, not to forsake it.
Nee tibi celandi spes sit peccare paranti;
Est deus, occultos spes qui vetat esse dolos. When thou art preparing to commit a sin, think not that thou wilt conceal it; there is a God that forbids crimes to be hidden.</poem>
But he who never sins can little boast
Compared to him who goes and sins no more!
SINCERITY
Loss of sincerity is loss of vital power.
Of all the evil spirits abroad at this hour in the world, insincerity is the most dangerous.
Sincerity is impossible, unless it pervade the whole being, and the pretence of it saps the very
foundation of character.
There is no greater delight than to be conscious of sincerity on self-examination.
Bashful sincerity and comely love.
Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem
none!
A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
SINGING
(See also Song)
Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on le chante.
That which is not worth speaking they sing.
Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing in a hempen string
Under the gallow-tree.
Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.
The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In fact, he had no singing education,
An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.
Quien canta, sus males espanta.
He who sings frightens away his ills.
At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So just, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seemed the music melted in the throat.
Y'ought to hyeah dat gal a-warblin'
Robins, la'ks an' all dem things
Heish de mouffs an' hides dey faces
When Malindy sings.
Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always keep us so.
I see you have a singing face—a heavy, dull, sonata face.
When I but hear her sing, I fare
Like one that raised, holds his ear
To some bright star in the supremest Round;
Through which, besides the light that's seen
There may be heard, from Heaven within,
The rests of Anthems, that the Angels sound.
