The sacred influence of light appears.
Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Hope allows us to bid farewell to fear.
Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.
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.