O mysterious Night! thou art not silent; many tongues halt thou.
A good man's prayers will from the deepest dungeon climb heaven's height, and bring a blessing down.
The plainest case in many words entangling.
I can bear scorpion's stings, tread fields of fire, in frozen gulfs of cold eternal lie, be tossed aloft through tracts of endless void, but cannot live in shame.
Time never bears such moments on his wing as when he flies too swiftly to be marked.
The bliss even of a moment still is bliss.