And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, consult how we may henceforth most offend.
If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.
No date prefixed directs me in the starry rubric set.
But oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd, I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues.
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.