Beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.
Tower'd cities please us then, And the busy hum of men.
Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
A grateful mind/ By owing owes not, but still pays, at once/ Indebted and discharg'd.
For so I created them free and free they must remain.
Hate is of all things the mightiest divider, nay, is division itself. To couple hatred, therefore, though wedlock try all her golden links, and borrow to tier aid all the iron manacles and fetters of law, it does but seek to twist a rope of sand.