PAUL BEFORE AGRIPPA.
81
Perchance to swell the hoard, which Death shall sweep
Like driven chaff away, 'mid stranger hands,
Perchance by Pleasure's deadening opiate lulled
To false security—or by the fear
Of man constrained—or moved to give your sins
A little longer scope, beware!—beware!—
Lest that dread "almost" shut you out from Heaven.
