The never-ending flight Of future days.
And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
Equally inured by moderation either state to bear, prosperous or adverse.
I fled, and cry'd out, Death; Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd From all her caves, and back resounded, Death.
No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
Heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowly wise. Think only what concerns thee and thy being; Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition, or degree, Contented that thus far hath been revealed.