However smothered under former negligence, or scattered through the dull, dark mass of common thoughts - let thy genius rise as the sun from chaos.
In chambers deep, Where waters sleep, What unknown treasures pave the floor.
Heaven wills our happiness, allows our doom.
Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
Time destroyed Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
'T is impious in a good man to be sad.