All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.
How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!
If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.
Execute their airy purposes.
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
Among unequals what society Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?