However smothered under former negligence, or scattered through the dull, dark mass of common thoughts - let thy genius rise as the sun from chaos.
He mourns the dead who lives as they desire.
Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled.
A land of levity is a land of guilt.
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue.
Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, "That all men are about to live."