When will the veil be lifted that casts so black a night over the universe? God of Israel, lift at last the gloom: For how long will you be hidden?
Often it is fatal to live too long.
Wrinkles on the brow are the imprints of exploits.
According as the man is, so must you humour him.
And do you count for nothing God who fights for us?
Hippolytus can feel, and feels nothing for me!