Health.

Who violates the customs, hurts the health,
Not of one man, but all the commonwealth.

'Tis much among the filthy to be clean;
Our heat of youth can hardly keep the mean.

The fire of hell this strange condition hath,
To burn, not shine, as learned Basil saith.

I heard ye could cool heat, and came
With hope you would allay the same;
Thrice I have wash'd but feel no cold,
Nor find that true which was foretold.
Methinks, like mine, your pulses beat
And labour with unequal heat;
Cure, cure yourselves, for I descry
Ye boil with love as well as I.

Science in God is known to be
A substance, not a quality.

Were there not a matter known,
There would be no passion.