And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet.

Let observation with extended observation observe extensively.

Better not be at all than not be noble.

The year is dying in the night.

So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight

Trust me not at all, or all in all.

Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.