*I'm just a soul whose intentions are good, Oh Lord! please don't let me be misunderstood*


How happy is he born and taught that serveth not another’s will;

Whose armor is his honest thought, and simple truth his utmost skill!

Whose passions not his masters are; whose soul is still prepared for death,

Untied unto the world by care of public fame or private breath.

This man is freed from servile bands of hope to rise or fear to fall;

Lord of himself, though not of lands, and having nothing, yet hath all.


*Sir Henry Wotton*


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