Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.
He who would search for pearls must dive below.
I strongly wish for what I faintly hope; like the daydreams of melancholy men, I think and think in things impossible, yet love to wander in that golden maze.
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
The elephant is never won by anger; nor must that man who would reclaim a lion take him by the teeth.
And nobler is a limited command, Given by the love of all your native land, Than a successive title, long and dark, Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark.