In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.

So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap.

Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.

The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

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.

Fear of change perplexes monarchs.

Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.