When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue.
The soul of man was made to walk the skies.
A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
Heaven's Sovereign saves all beings but himselfThat hideous sight,-a naked human heart.
The first sure symptom of a mind in health Is rest of heart and pleasure felt at home.