Our country is where ever we are well off.
The spirit of man, which God inspired, cannot together perish with this corporeal clod.
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.
All hope is lost of my reception into grace; what worse? For where no hope is left, is left no fear.
Into this wild abyss, The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave.
Nothing profits more than self-esteem, grounded on what is just and right.